


Take A Gamble On Love

by MaresThird



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-31 17:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaresThird/pseuds/MaresThird
Summary: Tobin is a professional poker player. Christen is a casino host. They meet and instantly there are sparks between them, although Christen is hiding a secret. When the truth comes out, the chips fly. Can Tobin forgive her and will the two get back together and take a gamble on love?
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 38
Kudos: 319





	1. Chapter 1

.

“_Who is that?_” Christen Press asks as she looks at a table on the left side of the room from afar. Her and her coworker, Allie Long, are just inside the Poker Room of the Bellagio Casino. Christen has only been at the Bellagio for a month, working as an Executive Casino Host, assisting the team with handling the big spenders who come to gamble at the casino. She uses her charm and skills to retain those gamblers from leaving their hotel. Allie, her best friend, had finally convinced her to come and work with her.   
She’s moved up from casino to casino all up and down the strip and now that she thinks of it, the woman to whom she is referring to looks familiar. She’s got an excellent memory, a key strength in her job, remembering names and faces. She just can’t put a name to the face. 

“Where?” Allie questions, following her gaze and seeing the table. “Who are you talking about?” 

“The only woman at the table,” Christen replies, looking at the startling beautiful woman with long caramel colored hair that looks like it was air dried after swimming in the hotel pool. She’s wearing a black hoodie, dark sunglasses and a backwards baseball cap on her head. Her jawline alone is making Christen think some impure thoughts. 

“That’s Tobin Heath,” Allie informs her and as soon as she says the name, Christen nods, recognizing it from the tournament rosters she’s seen this past year. Tobin Heath is one of the fresh new darlings on the Poker Tour, looking so beautiful and unintentionally sexy and raking in titles left and right. 

“Huh,” is all Christen can muster, content to just stare at her from where she stands and appreciate the view. 

“We’ve been trying to land her,” Allie states suddenly, leaning over and speaking quietly, “but she doesn’t want any special treatment, can you believe it?”

“Huh,” is Christen’s reply, then she turns to her, “Why not?” 

Allie shrugs, “She’s not with another casino that we know of,” she says slowly, “but she makes her reservations online and checks in and stays in a normal room,” 

“Doesn’t she have like, nine million in winnings this year alone?” Christen questions, trying to recall to current leaderboard of the World Series of Poker Champs. The big game is starting in two weeks and the Bellagio is the lucky casino hosting it. Soon poker players from all over the world will descend on the town for the tournament. 

“She’s worth at least thirty mil,” Allie replies, “You should look her up on the WSOP website.” She suggests. 

Christen is quick to pull out her phone, quickly navigating to website and reading her limited bio. She frowns. 

“What?” Allie questions, nudging her. 

“Likes to surf, likes to longboard, likes to play footy…what the Hell?” Christen says aggravatedly. 

Allie laughs, “You’re so into her,” she declares, nodding knowingly at her. 

“Am not,” Christen refutes, “I know nothing about her,” she states, “this,” she holds up her phone, “says nothing about her.”

“Invite her to soccer,” Allie suggests, “get an in with her, be her friend, be her reason to keep coming here.” She wiggles her eyebrows at her, “Unbutton your shirt a little and go over there and sex her up,” 

“We don’t know if she’s into chicks,” Christen retorts, “and I’m not going to play her, I don’t play anyone. I’m a professional.” 

Allie nods towards the table, “She is too, a professional with a nice fat bank account and we would like her to keep playing here.” 

Christen shakes her head, “No. I’m not going to do it.” 

Allie rolls her eyes, “Whatever,” she says, “I’m going over there.” 

Christen sighs, “I’m going to check the floor, Mr. Pete is here and I want to remind him of his dinner reservations.” 

The two separate, but not before Christen takes one last look at Tobin Heath, watching for a moment as she wins a hand, calmly raking the poker chips towards herself, casually speaking to the man next to her as she stacks them. 

XXXX

It’s three days later and Christen is at the bar, taking a moment to herself to warm up from the constant air conditioning and get away from the noise of the casino. She’s having a fancy coffee to warm herself up from the never ending coolness of the place. She’s absently looking at the TV mounted above the rows of liquor when she senses someone sitting down a chair away from her. 

“May I have a cup of hot tea please?” This low female voice politely asks, her voice so intriguing Christen turns her head to look at her. She’s greeted with a smile. 

“Hi,” Tobin Heath greets her, rubbing her upper arms over a navy hoodie, “this place gets so cold,” she shrugs at her. 

Christen nods, “It does,” she agrees, lifting her coffee mug, “I’m freezing,”

Tobin reaches her hand across the empty chair, “Tobin,” she grins at her. 

“Christen,” she smiles and shakes her hand. They both chuckle at how cold their hands are. 

“Christen,” Tobin says after thanking the bartender for the mug and small pot of hot water and Lipton teabag, “I have kind of a strange question for you,” she says as she concentrates on preparing her drink. 

“What’s that?” Christen tilts her head curiously. 

“Uh, do you live here?” Tobin inquires, “Like, in Vegas?” 

“Mmmhum,” Christen nods, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Do you know of any like, soccer pitches to play pick up?” Tobin asks shyly, “I tried to google it, but nothing really comes up.” 

Oh wow, Christen thinks to herself, how is this possible. “Uh, I do, actually,” she replies slowly. 

“You do?” Tobin questions, her eyes growing large, looking at her intently. 

“Yeah, uh,” Christen suddenly feels nervous, “um, a group of my friends and I play tonight, funny enough, at six, to like, eight.” 

“You play?” Tobin asks breathlessly, her mouth hanging open, looking at her with wonderment. 

“I do,” Christen says, growing a bit nervous now, “we just play for fun, we’re not all that great or anything,” she prefaces, “but you’re welcome to join in, it’s pick up,” 

“Oh my gosh,” Tobin says excitedly, “you’re a lifesaver!” she exclaims, “I haven’t been able to find anywhere to play for a couple of months,” she rambles, “it’s been killing me and you’re like an angel,” she smiles widely at her, “You really don’t know what this means to me,” 

“Ah,” Christen shrugs, “give me your number and I’ll send you the info and a pin drop,” she says, trying to stay casual. 

“Sure,” Tobin agrees, excitedly spewing out the numbers before Christen has reached for her phone. 

They talk as they finish their warm drinks, Tobin explaining she plays poker professionally, not mentioning any of her titles or how she’s first in women players and top ten overall in winnings for the year. Christen says she’s in hospitality, deciding to overlook telling her that she’s a host. She doesn’t want to make Tobin uncomfortable. They chat for a few minutes until Christen’s phone chirps and duty calls for her. Tobin smiles gratefully at her and tells her how excited she is for tonight. Christen leaves the bar feeling much warmer and it’s not from the coffee she’s just had. 

XXXX

“Huh,” Allie says, looking at the parking lot, “do my little eyes spy a one Tobin Heath coming over here looking as if she’s going to play some footy?” she then directs her gaze at Christen who is lacing her cleats. 

“Yep,” she answers without looking up at her, standing to turn and greet Tobin. Introductions are made, they all stretch out and soon are on the pitch. 

Christen is slightly distracted by how well Tobin plays, noticing how she prefers the midfield, dishing out pass after pass, cross after cross. She takes some shots, but not too many. Kelley, her friend from college who works at the hospital, notices how Tobin easily makes her look like a fool on defense. 

Irritated by Allie laughing at her, Kelley goes in on Tobin on her next possession, but she’s late, sending Tobin to the ground holding her ankle. 

“Oh shit!” Kelley exclaims, “Dude, I’m sorry,” 

“S’okay,” Tobin replies through gritted teeth, “just gimme a minute,” 

“What the fuck, Kel?” Christen charges up, feeling awful about Tobin getting hurt. 

“It was an accident,” Kelley defends herself, “I came in late,” she says, “I didn’t time it right,” 

Tobin is now sitting up, discreetly wiping her eyes, when Christen kneels next to her. “Are you okay?” she asks her, looking fearfully down at her left swollen ankle. 

“Yeah,” Tobin nods and swallows, “I forgot about this part of footy,” she says, giving her a weak smile. 

“I’ve got some ice,” Allie announces, waving to them from the bench. 

“Come on,” Christen says, getting an arm under Tobin’s, “can you walk?” 

“Not sure,” Tobin replies, worry in her voice. 

Christen and Kelley help get her up, slowly helping her to limp to the bench. Christen gets a headrush from Tobin’s arm around her and how her hand is gripping her upper arm. The game fizzles out after this, everyone gathering around, talking about which bar they wanted to go to. Christen hovers near Tobin, retrieving her backpack, offering her water.   
Tobin is a little quiet, yet remains friendly, even though she is in obvious pain. She declines joining them at the bar, explaining she should head back and ice a bit. Kelley has apologized a few times, genuinely feeling bad. Tobin makes a joking offhand comment about not being able to surf and that sparks a conversation between the two of them about surfing. 

Christen looks over to the parking lot, spying a few nicer sports cars, wondering which one is Tobin’s then offers to bring her car closer to the field. Tobin takes her up on that, tossing her keys to her and telling her it’s the old navy Jeep Wrangler with Oregon plates and points in the general direction of where she parked it. 

With raised eyebrows, Christen heads out, shaking her head slightly that this millionaire is driving a Jeep that was made while she was still in high school. She finds it easily enough, unlocking it and carefully entering. It’s clean, showing some wear from age but obviously lovingly taken care of. It surprises her and then she thinks, she doesn’t know what to expect from Tobin, she really doesn’t know her. 

Tobin thanks her profusely for helping her to her Jeep, thanking her even more for inviting her to play. 

“You can barely walk,” Christen frowns, “I feel so terrible,” 

“Ah, it’s part of the game,” Tobin grins at her, “thanks again, it was so much to get out there again, even for an hour.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Christen frowns again, “maybe you should have it looked at.” 

“I’ll throw some ice on it and take some Tylenol,” Tobin assures her, “I’ll be fine,” she says. 

“Are you sure? I can take you to an urgent care,” she offers, feeling responsible still and maybe, just maybe wanting to spend more time with her. 

“Chris, it’s fine,” she says kindly, “it’s just a knock, I’ll be okay.” 

“Okay,” Christen says slowly, unconvinced. It’s pretty swollen already and turning a few different ugly colors. 

“I’ll see ya around, right?” Tobin looks hopeful. 

Christen nods, a smile playing at her lips, “I have tomorrow off and then I’ll be around the Bellagio for the next four days,” 

“Maybe we could get lunch or something,” Tobin shrugs, “text me,” she says, “I don’t know your schedule.” Then Tobin reminds her that her friends are waiting for her at the bar and when Christen sees the pain in Tobin’s eyes, she relents. 

XXXX

“Have you heard from her?” Allie asks over lunch two days later. 

Christen nods, “We texted yesterday,” she says, “she said she was sore but okay.” 

“And?” Allie looks at her dramatically. 

“What?” Christen asks. 

“Did you make plans to meet her?” Allie asks her.

“No,” Christen replies, “she said she’d be around tomorrow, we’ll text then,” 

“What did she say when you told her you’re a host?” 

“I didn’t tell her,” Christen states, “I told her I was in hospitality,” she explains, “I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 

Allie nods, “You are going to try to land her, right?” 

“No, you should,” Christen replies, “I don’t want to mix business with pleasure,” she says, “she’s pretty cool and really sweet and I don’t want to ruin that.” 

“You like her,” Allie accuses her. 

“I don’t know her,” 

“You like her.” Allie nods with certainty. 

Christen’s shoulders slump, “Maybe,” she throws out, making Allie squeal.

“She could be your sugar mama,” she says excitedly. 

Christen rolls her eyes, “No.” 

“She could,” Allie nods, “she’s loaded,” 

“Stop,” Christen says sternly, her eyes blazing, “it’s not gonna happen.” 

Allie puts her hands up in surrender. “Sorry,” she says, “I was just teasing,” 

“No, you weren’t,” Christen accuses her emphatically, “you were seriously suggesting it.” She says, “And I don’t appreciate it. I just met her, I don’t know anything about her really, and she doesn’t live around here, so it’s not like I’m going to date her. So, please, end this line of questioning and suggesting, okay?” 

Allie looks appropriately ashamed. “I’m sorry,” she says sincerely, “I just wish you had someone, you know? You’re such a great person, and Tobin seems pretty great, I mean, how nice was she when Kelley nearly broke her ankle?” 

“I don’t even know if she’s into chicks, Al,” Christen states with a sigh.

XXXX

It’s two days later when Christen sees Tobin again, the two agreeing to meet for lunch at a diner off the strip. Mr. Pete has left the Bellagio and Christen doesn’t have anyone of her clients coming in until Friday night, so she’s pretty free for the next two days. 

“Tobin!” Christen exclaims, rising from her chair, “Oh, no!” 

Tobin gives her a lopsided grin as she crutches toward their table, her left leg bent not putting any weight on her foot in a medical boot. “Hey, Chris,” she greets, slowly lowering herself into the chair Christen pulled out for her. 

“Does it hurt? Is it broke? We could have met at the hotel,” Christen rambles. 

“It’s not broke,” Tobin states, “strained a couple of tendons,” she explains, “and it aches, like throbs sometimes but it’s getting better.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Christen frowns, “I feel so bad,” 

“Ah,” Tobin waves at her, “it’s not your fault,” she dismisses, “or Kelley’s, it’s just footy.” 

“I know, but” 

“Chris,” Tobin looks at her steadily, “it’s fine, I’m just happy I got to play for awhile before it happened.”

Christen nods, biting her lower lip. 

“So,” Tobin grabs the menu from the table, “I’ve never been here, what’s good?” she asks as she peruses it. 

“This was nice,” Tobin says quietly, giving her a smile, “I like hanging out with you.” 

“Me too,” Christen agrees, “we should do it again sometime,” she suggests. They’ve had an enjoyable lunch, Christen finding Tobin to be articulate, witty and whip smart. Tobin is delighted with Christen’s sense of humor, her intelligence and ability to speak about a wide range of topics. Their conversation over the meal went in all directions, covering their childhoods, Christen’s in California, Tobin’s spread over the country as the result of her parents being in the military. They talked about high school experiences, the colleges they attended, Christen Stanford, Tobin UNC. They talked about sports they like to play versus sports they like to watch. Without coming right out and saying it they both discussed their preference on being attracted to women. Both hinted at being available. Tobin shared she was here for the Main Event and possibly longer afterwards, she had no immediate plans.   
Christen covers the bill, coyly stating Tobin could catch next one after she complains and tries to take it from her. Tobin responds immediately with an invite to dinner that night. Christen accepts, smiling when Tobin says it will be sweats and hoodie casual. 

They both leave the diner smiling at each other, both feeling closer and their attraction to one another growing. 

Over the next the week, they dine together often, breakfasts, lunches, dinners. Christen is slightly surprised that most places Tobin takes her are off the strip, normal establishments with good food and not over the top expensive. Most of them she’s never been to before. Their conversations are rather deep and serious, talking about relationships and each confessing they aren’t into one night stands and neither have been with someone in a long whole. 

On one of Christen’s evenings off from the casino, Tobin takes her to an old run down bar off the strip for an evening of open mic night. They enjoy themselves immensely with all of the talented performers, good food from the bar and a few cocktails. Christen discovers Tobin isn’t much of a drinker, preferring to sip on a whiskey for most of the evening. When Tobin drops her off at her apartment and kisses her cheek, Christen feels like a high schooler again, floating into her place and hugging herself. 

Something is cooking between them and they both know it. 

Three days before the tournament starts, she impulsively asks Tobin to dinner at her place that night for a home cooked meal. Tobin eagerly accepts, sharing with her that it’s been ages since she’s had one. 

“It smells amazing in here,” is Tobin’s first comment after greeting Christen and crutching into her apartment. 

“I hope you like,” Christen says, suddenly feeling worried, she’s tried to remember the dishes Tobin ahs ordered in past week and now her mind is suddenly blank. “You like chicken, right?” she asks anxiously. 

Tobin lets out a laugh, looking at her with affection, the stops suddenly. “No,” she shakes her head. Christen’s eyes go wide with panic and then Tobin laughs again. “Just kidding,” she says in between chuckles, amused at her reaction. 

Christen lightly slaps her shoulder, “That’s not nice,” she frowns, “I’m not sure I should offer you dessert now,” 

“I was kidding,” Tobin says, tilting her head and giving her a sad look with those large brown eyes pleading at her. Christen does remember that is very fond of desserts in all categories. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she pouts, her lower lip jutting out and looking sad. 

“Fine,” Christen grins at her, pointing a finger at her, “don’t do it again.” 

Tobin balances her crutches against her sides, raises her hands in surrender, nodding her head obediently. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, “Oh, here,” she pulls out a bottle of wine from her hoodie pocket, “this is for you.” 

“Oh, thanks,” Christen accepts it, looking at the label, nodding appreciatively. It happens to be the one she’s ordered before, enjoying the taste. Did Tobin remember that, she wonders as she turns to find the wine key to open it. 

“Chris,” Tobin says as she wipes her mouth with her napkin, “that was fantastic,” she beams at her. 

“Thank you,” Christen says, averting her eyes with shyness, feeling her skin burning from Tobin’s praise. She’s thinking about how sweet Tobin was throughout the dinner, asking her questions about her hobbies and what she likes to do in her down time. How her eyes were so expressive as she listened to her, encouraging her, asking her follow up questions and showing genuine interest. 

“Chris?” Tobin asks, looking concerned. 

“Oh, sorry,” she shakes her head, “I spaced out a minute,” 

Tobin smiles, “I asked if I could help you do the dishes,” 

“You don’t have,” Christen stops herself and stands up, “sure,” she says, “we can have dessert after.” 

They eat their dessert on the couch, an ice cream cake concoction that Christen has made before that was inspired by something she saw on Pinterest. Christen finishes first and reaches over to place her bowl on the coffee table. She looks over at Tobin who is on her last bite, some whip cream on her cheek. 

“Here,” Christen offers her hand to take the bowl, allowing her fingers to linger on Tobin’s when she grabs it. She sets it on the table quickly, looking at her, and leaning in close to her, “You have some,” she murmurs, reaching out and using two fingers to gently wipe away the whipped cream. Their heads are close, eyes locked on each other, Tobin’s mouth slowly dropping open when Christen moves her fingers to her mouth and sensuously licks the cream from them. 

“Tobin,” she says quietly, her voice filled with need, “I want to kiss you,” 

“Do it,” Tobin replies, an urgency in her voice. 

Christen leans in and presses her lips against her, slightly surprised at how soft they. Soon their tongues are twisting, things are heating up, hands are seeking skin under shirts. Christen pulls back, slightly out of breath, staring at Tobin who is breathing just as rapidly as she is. She takes her hand and tilts her head, signaling bedroom. They stand up together, Christen shoving the crutches at her and kissing her hard as she guides her to her room, her hands pulling at Tobin’s shirt, lifting it off her and dropping it on the floor. 

XXXX

Whatever anxiety or shyness they may have had about the morning after is quickly lost when Christen straddles Tobin in bed to start up another round. They end up not making it out of the bedroom until eleven, both starving. Tobin is now dressed in Christen’s clothes, freshly fucked and showered. 

They eat brunch near the hotel, Christen apologizing that she has to get to work. Tobin easily sets her at ease, being understanding. They agree to dinner again this evening, although Tobin says she can’t stay late, she wants to get in another poker match before the tournament starts to keep her skills up. 

They agree to meet at five in the lobby, both needing to get a few things done during the afternoon. 

As Christen is at her desk in the office, Allie strides over and leans on her cubicle wall, “Soooo, how’s it going?” she asks, her eyes dancing. 

“Good,” Christen replies evenly, her eyes on her computer screen, “Mr. Pete is coming back in two weeks,” she looks up at her, “do you remember where I can get a horse drawn carriage? He wants to take his wife out for a romantic ride.” 

“Uh huh,” Allie says as she nods, “uh, CP, you got something on your neck.” A slow smile spreads across her face, “Looks like you attacked by something,” 

Christen’s hand is immediately slapping over the left side of her neck, blushing profusely. She raises her phone up, pulling up the camera and snapping a photo. She looks and frowns at Allie. “How can you see that?” It’s a tiny reddish mark, barely noticeable. 

“So, you sealed the deal with Tobin?” Allie asks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Christen glares at her. 

“So, you and Tobin got together?” she rephrases much more quietly, even though they are alone on the room. 

“Uh huh,” Christen replies, “I usually don’t do that,” 

Allie nods, “I know,” she affirms, “you really like her, huh?” 

“So much,” Christen admits, “the two of us have a lot to discuss.” 

“Does she?” Allie isn’t sure how to ask. 

“She doesn’t sleep around, if that’s’ what you’re trying to ask,” Christen states, “neither of us do,” she frowns, “she says she doesn’t have plans after the tournament,” she shrugs, “so I think we’ll talk then.” 

Allie nods, her face becoming softer, “I’m sure you guys can work something out,” 

“Yeah,” Christen sighs, “I hope so.” 

“If Charlie asks,” Allie clears her throat, “if he asks about Tobin, should I say you’re working on it?” 

Christen scrunches up her face, “Maybe if he asks before the tournament? I want to tell Tobin the truth right after, and then introduce you guys and explain the process to her.” 

“Okay, that sounds good,” Allie nods, “it’s only a couple of days and he’s busy, so I think we’ll be fine,” 

“Sounds good,” Chrsiten agrees, knowing neither of them want their boss to get on their case for not attempting to secure Tobin in an agreement with the casino. 

XXXX

“I slept with her, Lauren,” Tobin says, frowning, “I don’t do that, but I really, really like her so much,” 

“Tobin, it’s okay,” Lauren assures her, “she must be a super great person to have you feeling like this,” 

Tobin smiles, “She really is,” she says, her happiness apparent, “I really want to talk to her after the tournament, you know? See what she’s thinking, if we can work something out.” She takes a deep breath, “If I win this thing,” she says, “I can be done for awhile,” she says quietly, “done with the travel, done with the casinos, just settle somewhere, and live normally for awhile.” 

“That would be amazing,” Lauren muses, “we’d get to see you more than for a couple days here and there,” 

“I could take time to actually vacation,” Tobin chuckles, “and not worry about making enough money to get Jeffrey taken care of.” 

“If you don’t get it this time, you will the next,” Lauren assures her. 

“Yeah,” Tobin sighs, “it’s just been a long three years, you know?” 

“I do, hon,” Lauren acknowledges, “and you’ve worked your ass off to help him. Don’t think it’s going unnoticed, Tobin, everyone knows what you’ve been doing.” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin says, unconvinced, “tell that to my parents,” 

“Tobes,” Lauren sighs, “it’s hard for them, the idea of you playing poker to play for Jeffrey’s mess he left behind,” she sighs again, “they have a hard time dealing with that.” 

“You know I’ve tried to talk to them about it,” Tobin says, “many times,” 

“I know, I do,” Lauren says, “and I know they just want all of this to just go away and not deal with it. But you doing this, Tobin, it’s so noble.” 

Tobin snorts, “Noble,” she mutters, “he left behind a wife and kid and they’re the ones stuck with picking up the pieces,” she says heatedly. 

“I know,” Lauren says, an edge to her voice, “I talk to Amy almost every day, if you’ve forgotten.” 

Tobin sighs, running a hand through her hair, “They don’t acknowledge them Laur,” she says, her voice trembling, “they want nothing to do Amy and Ryan.” 

“I know,” 

“It just sucks and it hurts, and if me being able to pay off the judgement against Jeffrey is the only thing I can do…” she sniffs, wiping at her nose, angry she’s gotten upset about this all over again. 

The two are quiet for a few minutes, both thinking about the situation. Tobin’s brother Jeffrey was in a car accident three years ago that caused the permanent paralysis to a young girl. Jeffrey lingered in a coma for three weeks before he passed away. He had been drinking. He made a stupid mistake and paid for it with his life and altering the life of an innocent person.

The family of the girl sued Jeffrey’s estate and was awarded twenty million dolllars in damages and pain and suffering. Amy, Jeffrey’s wife, didn’t happen to have twenty mil lying around, so she sold their home and liquated Jeffrey’s 401K, used the balance of his life insurance pay out and did her best. 

Tobin, her sister Perry and her sister Katie were there for her throughout this. The minute it came to light that Jeffrey had been over the legal limit, their parents they shut down. They shunned Amy and little Ryan and they had a hard time knowing their daughters were helping her. They didn’t even attend his funeral. 

Tobin had always been good at cards. She had an amazing memory, a mind for numbers, the ability to stay calm and focused, the patience to learn about her opponents and the attention span to notice the details of those playing at the table to learn their tells. She had quietly paid for many of her expenses in college through her winnings at weekly poker games. The best traits she carried was not drinking at the table and knowing when to walk away, when to lay down her cards and how to be polite, social and possess proper poker etiquette. 

That made her welcome at many tables because she didn’t dress seductively to try and distract serious players, she didn’t flirt, mostly because she played against men, and she didn’t act like some of the other women who tried to play dumb. She was serious. She looked people in the eye, she acknowledged good hands and she wasn’t sarcastic at the table.   
The idea had hit her one night, two years ago, when she went to the casino to play some cards and blow off steam. She had been aggravated with her parents, felt helpless about the situation and needed to just relax and focus on the cards for awhile. After she cleaned out the second table at Texas Hold ‘Em, the dealer suggested she enter one of their tournaments. They had small tournaments for players and the winners would be given the opportunity to play in their larger, higher stakes one later in the year. 

She didn’t think much about it until she drove home and the idea came to life. At first, she kept to herself, but after she won that tournament and the high stakes one, she thought maybe this could be a way she could help Amy out. 

Her and Amy went way back, playing youth soccer together, Jeffrey always tagging along, at first playing in the playground, then sitting on the sidelines ignoring the match and then, when he began to notice girls, watching Tobin’s teammates play. He’d had a crush on Amy since forever and it wasn’t until after high school they finally got together. So now, Tobin was close enough to her goal, playing professionally until she could cover the judgement expenses plus the interest and leave herself a healthy nest egg. This tournament at the Bellagio would pay out ten million dollars and leave her with the ability to write that check. 

She sacrificed much to do this, leaving her apartment in Portland, her friends and her old job making beer at a micro brewery. She loved that job and if she did go back to Portland, she knew it would be there for her. The worst thing about it was her parents’ reaction when they found out. 

It was ugly. They didn’t understand why she felt compelled to help Amy, she was no longer family to them. They didn’t understand why she was going to up and leave her life to undertake a fruitless endeavor when she would never achieve her goal. And they didn’t like she was _gambling_. They were very by the book Christians and when their conversation got so heated with them telling Tobin all the things they didn’t like about her, her patience left. Her patience, which she was proud of, left her and anger replaced it allowing her to make her fatal error. 

_“Why don’t we just totally clear the air of everything then,” she had said, “I’m gay. I have been for a long time and didn’t tell you because of this reaction. So fine. Here’s something else for you to hate about me. I like women. I love women. Deal with it.”_

So now, Tobin’s parents do not speak with her either, effectively losing two children in the span of three years. Perry and Katie, who knew she was gay, tried their best to make their parents understand to no avail. 

Amy has no knowledge of what Tobin is giving up for her and little Ryan. Tobin made it explicitly clear that Perry and Katie and Lauren would never mention it to her. Tobin tried her best to stay off social media, not do interviews and keep a low profile this past year. She played overseas, visiting London, Monoco and Portugal, wining big a few times and leaving before raising suspicions. She came back to America and settled into the World Series of Poker Tournaments, mostly to be able to visit her sisters, she thought of Amy and Lauren as her sisters, but she shared with Amy what she doing. She left it vague, mentioning selling photos to magazine, knowing Amy never followed poker and who does if you’re not in to the game. She felt safe. 

“So, tell me more about Christen,” Lauren says suddenly, bringing Tobin from her reverie.

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head, a smile forming on her face, “did I tell you she went to Stanford?” 

XXXX

A few hours later, Tobin crutches into the bar, finding a spot open next to a tall blond who’s back is to her, waiting to get the attention of the bartender. 

“Has Press made any progress on getting Tobin Heath on board as our whale?” the man the blond is talking to asks loud enough for Tobin to hear clearly.

“Christen is working on it,” the blond answers, nodding affirmatively, “she’s made contact and is doing her best.” 

“Press and you are my best high roller hosts,” the man says, “I know she’s good, but if she can’t close the deal, maybe you should step in.” 

“We’ve already discussed it,” the blond replies. 

Tobin pales hearing this. Her Christen is a high roller host? She’s trying to bring me on as a whale? Was this all a lie? Everything we talked about all week, did she not mean any of it? Was it all just for her job? Feeling hurt and betrayed, she turns away so they can’t see her face and crutches away, the water bottle she wanted forgotten. With her head down, she crutches to the elevator instead of the poker room. 

XXXX


	2. Chapter 2

.

_The next day._

**Christen: Meet for breakfast?**

**Tobin: Can I take a raincheck? I was playing late last night.**

**Christen: Sure! Get some sleep and text me when you get up.**

Later, Christen is looking at her phone, a little surprised she hasn’t heard from Tobin all day. 

“What’s wrong?” Allie asks, nodding her head to a group of five very nicely dressed women and indicating the table they should head to. 

The two are in the table room, overseeing play, watching their whales. 

“I haven’t heard from Tobin all day,” Christen murmurs.

“She’s probably sleeping,” Allie reasons, “the tournament starts tomorrow,” 

“I know,” Christen frowns, “it just doesn’t seem like her.” 

“I don’t think you’ve known her long enough to make that statement,” Allie reasons, “I mean, you guys normally talk, not text. Maybe she isn’t a phone person.” 

Christen nods her head, she has a point. 

“Text her back.” Allie suggests, smiling as she watches her whale give her an approving nod. She was requested to find some women for him to enjoy their company tonight at the casino. And maybe later. 

“No,” Christen sighs, “I don’t want to wake her if she’s sleeping,” she says, “and I don’t want to seem clingy if she isn’t.” 

“She might have like a pre-tournament ritual or something, you know?” Allie offers and Christen nods.

“Yeah, maybe,” she considers, “I’ll just let her text me.” 

The text doesn’t come that night. 

XXXX

There’s no text waiting for her in the morning. But Christen is rushing, running a little late as she has to drive over to the carriage rental place and make double check on the order she placed for Mr. Pete. She does it personally to create bonds with the vendors she uses, she stresses the importance of the event and the professionalism and discretion needed.   
Her morning doesn’t stop after that. One of the other hosts called in, apologizing as she gagged and held back her vomit. Christen and Allie step in, Christen making phone calls to double check on orders for the client and Allie greeting the gentleman in the lobby and assuring him his needs will be met. 

It’s after a quick lunch at their desks when Allie and Christen decide to visit to the Poker Room where the tournament is in full swing. They cruise around the perimeter of the room, Christen trying to find Tobin. The post up along the wall near the restrooms, checking their phones when players begin to filter away from the tables. Afternoon break, Christen thinks. 

She spies Tobin crutching towards them and she smiles brightly. Tobin sees her and she frowns slightly, slowing her pace. 

“Hi!” she greets brightly, stepping towards her, shocked when Tobin backs away. “What’s wrong?” 

Tobin’s eyebrows shoot up high. “What’s wrong?” she repeats, her tone annoyed. 

Christen realizes that Tobin is angry. “Tobin, what is going on?” she questions as Allie slowly takes a couple steps to the side. 

“What’s going on?” Tobin repeats, running a hand through her hair. “Was it all a lie?” she asks quietly, not wanting to make a scene. “Because it wasn’t for me, Christen.” 

Christen flinches with how Tobin pronounces her name. “What are you talking about?” 

Tobin chuckles darkly, crossing her arms, “Do you seduce all of your clients or was it just me?” 

“Tobin, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Christen says, her eyes wide, looking at her earnestly, “what do you mean?” 

“Maybe I should make it clearer then,” Tobin says, her voice low and clipped, each word being pronounced sharply, “do you fuck all of your potential whales?” 

“What?” Christen breathes, shocked by her accusation. 

“That’s basically what that one said,” Tobin says, jerking her thumb at Allie, who is doing her best to look distracted, “I gotta go,” Tobin says shaking her head, “you know, I told you I don’t just sleep with anyone Christen,” she sadly, “After everything we talked about, I thought I knew you and this is really a despicable thing to do. I would never do that to someone.” 

Christen is so in shock, she stares as Tobin pivots and crutches away, heading across the room. Allie grabs her arm and pulls her into the women’s restroom. 

“What was that?” she questions, “Are you okay?” 

Christen shakes her head, “No,” she whispers, shaking her head, “Not here,” she pleads. Allie grabs her arm again and escorts her to the nearest exit, quickly bringing her back to their shared office. She leads her in and shuts the door behind her. 

“What is going on? Why was Tobin so upset?” Allie questions, concern in her voice. 

Christen starts to speak but a sob comes out instead, “She…she…knows…” she cries, bringing her hands up to cover her face. Allie hugs her, whispering assurances everything will be okay. It takes her a few minutes to calm down enough to speak. 

“Allie,” she looks up at her with watery eyes, “she asked me if I fuck all of my potential whales,” her chin quivers, “she knows I’m a host.” 

“How would she have found out?” Allie questions, her brow knit in thought. 

Christen’s eyes darken, “She said you told her,” 

Allie’s head snaps back, a look of shock on her face, “I never did,” she shakes her head, “I haven’t spoke to her, like at all.” 

Christen just eyes her steadily, uncertain if she’s telling the truth. 

“Christen,” Allie realizes she’s doubting her, “I swear to God I didn’t say anything!” she exclaims, “I wouldn’t fuck this up for you,” she tries to assure her, “you’re my best friend and you’ve been so happy, I wouldn’t do that!” 

Christen’s shoulders slump as she nods, her eyes downward, looking at the carpeting. “How did she find out? Why would she say you said that?” She looks up at her, clueless as to how this has happened. 

Allie rubs her forehead as she thinks. “The crutches,” she whispers, looking at Christen, “her crutches.” Her mouth drops open, and she winces. “She overheard me talking to Charlie,” 

Christen bolts upright, “When? How?” 

“Last night,” Allie says, “in the bar,” she rubs her chin, “I remember hearing crutches.” 

“What happened?” Christen demands. 

“She must have been next to me or something,” Allie says, “I didn’t see her, but Charlie asked how it was going. If you were working on getting Tobin. I said you were…” she takes a breath, “oh shit!” 

“What?” Christen grabs her arm. 

“I said,” Allie takes a breath, “I said you had made contact and were making progress and doing your best.” She cringes, “That could be taken so badly. 

“Then what happened?” 

“Then Charlie said how you and I were his best high roller hosts and if you couldn’t land her, I should try.” 

Christen cringes at that, “Oh God,” she mutters. 

“Shit,” Allie mutters, “I can totally see how bad that sounds,” she looks at Christen, “I’m so sorry,” she says genuinely, “I had no idea she was there,” 

“She’s probably going to leave as soon as the tournament is done,” Christen sighs, “I’ll never see her again.” 

Allie thinks for a moment, “Okay,” she says, grabbing Christen’s arm, “here’s what we’re going to do.” 

XXXX

Tobin doesn’t allow herself to think about Christen as she plays. She’s winning right now, she’s got the top stack at the table and is selectively eliminating the others. They’ve gotten through multiple rounds, playing against the winners of tournaments from across the country. Beginner players mostly, some from the internet instead of live games. Those ones are more tricky, they don’t always possess the old school poker qualities. They make rash bluffs, go against the odds and make things a little more difficult. She takes her time with those players, reading them carefully and finding their tells. 

That’s one advantage she holds over them. An internet player doesn’t usually develop the stoicism needed to survive live games. They sit at a screen reacting to the cards drawn and when they get to tables like this, they don’t always police their facial expressions. 

There’s four players left and then they can take their dinner break. Tobin doesn’t have much of an appetite, but she knows she needs to eat or she’ll be starving if she gets to the main table. The winner here goes to the big show. 

Ted, the guy to her left is leading the hand giving the impression he’s weak so he’s probably bluffing. Tobin folds, sensing he’s making a move on the guy across from her and trying to knock him out. She’s cool with him doing the dirty work. The third guy joins the pot, tossing his chips in confidently, giving Tobin a smirk like he’s going to take the whole thing. She doesn’t react to him, she’s played against these types many times before. 

The river comes and after much time, the three go all in. Tobin hopes it’s a double knock out, she can’t wait to get away from the table and stretch her legs. Her patience is wearing thin with this table. Most of these guys have talked down to her all afternoon and into the early evening, even with her being the chip leader. Ted ends up taking out both of the guys and Tobin just gives them a cool nod as they collect their belongings and leave the table. Ted stacks his chips and gives Tobin a bright smile. 

“Guess it’s just you and me,” he grins. Ted is pretty cool. He’s made a few remarks to the other guys when they say something stupid to Tobin. He’s funny. 

Tobin nods back, “Let’s do this,” she says, pulling her cards close and peeking at them. She’s got junk after the flop and folds for him to take the pot. She pulls a king eight off suit next hand and bets a modest amount. The flop comes out ace, eight, eight and she sees how Ted’s eyes flicker. Tobin feels he’s got an ace, but she doesn’t think he’s got the other eight. Ted bets a third of the pot and Tobin nods and sees it, throwing her chips in. 

The turn card is an eight. Tobin’s got the nuts, there’s no way for her to lose unless she’s scares him from going all in. Ted’s got a full house, Tobin knows he’s thinking they could spilt the pot if she’s got the same cards as him. He makes a nice bet, just over the half the pot and Tobin starts her act. She takes a couple of minutes, her fingers clicking a few chips as she considers her next move. She puts her chips in, rather quickly, trying to look as if she’s strong yet with a hint of nervousness. 

The river card is an ace. Just the card Tobin wants. The two stare at the cards in the middle of the table. 

“I’m in the mood to go for it,” Ted grins at her, breaking the silence, “you wanna play?” 

Tobin shrugs, “It’s gambling,” she says casually, “let’s do it.” 

“Atta girl,” he chuckles, moving all of his chips in, “I sure hope you don’t have the eight.” 

Tobin smirks, “It’s been nice playing with you, Ted,” she says and flicks her cards over, showing the eight. 

“Damn,” he mutters, shaking his head, standing up and looking at her. “I should have known,” he says ruefully. 

“Good game,” Tobin says, standing up and extending her hand. 

“Good luck at the final table, Tobin,” he says sincerely as he shakes her hand, “I hope you get that bracelet,” 

“Thanks, man,” Tobin grins, “I hope to get a cheeseburger right now,” she says.

He laughs and picks up his drink, “I’ll see you around,” 

Tobin grabs her slip from the dealer, slipping her a thousand dollar chip as a tip for tonight. “Thanks, Gail,” she says as she pats her hoodie to make sure she has her wallet and phone and then gets her crutches under her arms and threads her way through tables, knowing which bar she wants to go to get her burger.

She doesn’t see Allie following her from a distance. 

She enters the nearly deserted bar, sitting down and setting her crutches on the right side of her. She grabs a menu, giving the bartender a quick smile before she places her order. She scrolls on her phone for a few minutes until her order arrives, hungrily attacking her burger and fries, watching the baseball game on the TV above the bar. She’s almost finished when someone sits down next to her and orders a vodka soda with a lime. 

“Congratulations,” a voice says to her from her side. Tobin looks over and sees it’s Allie. She sighs. She doesn’t need this now. 

“What do you want?” Tobin gets to the point. 

“You heard what I said to my boss last night,” Allie nods at her, “but I have to tell you, it wasn’t the truth.” 

Tobin leans back in her chair, sighing again, “Is that so?” she asks in a monotone voice. 

“Yes, it is,” Allie insists, “I know you and Christen have gotten close, I know the two of you talked about a lot of things, and I know that you know she wouldn’t lie to you.” 

Tobin just looks at her, “Go on,” she says, pointedly looking at her watch. 

“I was with Christen the day she first saw you,” Allie says, “and I told her to go for it, try to get you as a whale.” She says, taking a sip of her drink, “She refused. She didn’t want to because she found you attractive and didn’t want to mix business and pleasure. She told me I should try to land you but we agreed to do it after the tournament. Neither one of us wanted to distract you beforehand.” 

Tobin gives her a slight nod, “I’m listening,” 

“I was telling that to my boss because he thought Christen was going after you,” she explains, “he’d seen you two together in the hotel and assumed it was because she was trying to land you. Her and I talked about how to tell him without either of us getting in trouble for not even approaching you yet.” Allie takes another drink from her glass, “It was purely a chance meeting with her at the bar and her inviting you to soccer,” she says, “and I just have to say, she really likes you Tobin, and she’s devastated with how this happened.” 

Tobin bites her inside of her cheek, “She’s devastated?” 

Allie nods solemnly, “I’ve never seen her so upset.” 

Tobin sighs deeply, looking down at her lap. Then she looks up at Allie, her eyes flashing, “If you’re lying” 

Allie shakes her head, “If you’re interested in receiving perks of being a whale at this casino, you can talk to me after the tournament. If you’re not interested, that’s fine, I understand.” Allie states quickly, “But, please, talk to Christen, she likes you so much and from what she tells me, you’re a really great person and I’d hate to see you two not be together over this misunderstanding.” 

Tobin’s phone chimes, her reminder she set going off. She turns it off, “I’ve got to get back to the table,” she says reluctantly. Allie nods understandingly, standing up with her and waiting while Tobin settles her bill and gathers her crutches. 

“If you have a minute,” Allie says quietly, “maybe you could just text her?” 

Tobin nods, “Yeah,” she says. Allie walks with her to the entrance of the casino, “I’d say break a leg,” she smirks, “but you almost have.” 

“Thanks,” Tobin nods, “and thanks for explaining everything,” she says, “I appreciate it.” 

“Please, Tobin,” Allie touches her arm, “it’s the truth, as crazy as it sounds, it really is.” 

Tobin just nods, “I gotta go,” 

XXXX

It’s after she’s signed off on the standard television release and interview agreement that Tobin pulls her phone out while slouching in a chair near the main table. 

**Tobin: hey. Can we talk later?**

**Christen: yes, I’d really like that**

**Tobin: me too**

**Christen: Text me after you win**

**Tobin: thanks for your confidence**

Tobin takes a deep breath, thinking there’s a chance her and Chris could sort this out. The Christen she knew, the one with the honest face and soft smiles, the sometimes unbridled laugh that made Tobin’s heartrate spike after she intentionally said something ridiculous, the one who shared deep thoughts and feelings with her. The one who looked at her with such affection with those mysterious grey green eyes. That Christen wouldn’t lie to her. 

One of the interns passes by, announcing they are beginning to two minutes, and Tobin removes her favorite snapback, running a hand through her hair and replacing the hat. She’s not nervous, she’s just anxious to get through this song and dance part of introductions and get to playing. She’s played against the four men and two other women that have made the final table. They’re all very good players and it would be anyone’s game. Her plan is to take it easy, play some hands and test the waters, not make any ridiculous bets and refresh her memory on these players. Once she’s comfortable, then she’ll start picking them off or letting others do that as well. 

XXXX

Four hours later and Tobin is in decent position. Three players are gone, two only have enough chips for maybe three more hands and Tobin and the remaining three players are fairly close in chip count. Tobin peeks at her cards, she’s drawn an ace and king of clubs. She’s on the button, the first to bet and she buys in to play, only putting in the minimum bet. They go around the table, each player taking some time to decide if they’re playing. There’s a little showmanship in this move so early on and Tobin watches each one carefully from behind her dark sunglasses. 

The pot grows when they all decide to see the flop. The flop comes out with an ace of diamonds, queen of clubs, jack of clubs. Tobin is running with a possible royal flush. She places a safety bet, enough to make the two go all in if they want to play, but not too high to scare the others away. It’s a tricky balance to decide how much to bet, because you want others to play and take their chips. Go with a big bet too soon and people will fold. You reserve that move when you think someone is bluffing and you want to call them on it. It’s called a push. 

The pot grows with chips, both short staked players moving all in, two of the others coming and one person folding. The turn card comes up as a ten of diamonds, giving Tobin a flush, but other scenarios run through her head of what her opponents could be holding. Once again she slow plays the table, making a cautious bet and waiting for the other two to throw in their chips. Only one of the guys with chips remaining continues to play, the other folds. The final card comes out, the river, and it’s the ten of clubs. Tobin’s got her royal flush, there’s no way she can lose. She hems and haws, playing with her stack of chips, sighing and taking her time as she pretends to be unsure and nervous about this move. She wants to cleverly show weakness, making her opponents think she’s weak. She eyes his stack of chips and places her bet. It’s enough to put him all in if he decides to go for it. 

He immediately moves all in, shaking his head and looking satisfied. “Straight flush,” he announces, flipping his cards over and leaning back in his seat. He shows an eight and nine of clubs, grinning at her. 

“Dude,” Tobin says, shaking her head and smiling at him, “nice hand,” she says genuinely. “Think I got you beat though,” she flips over to show her ace and king of clubs to make the royal flush. The crowd goes wild as they see it on the big screen above the table. 

He stands up, his hands on his head, “Holy shit!” he exclaims, “fuck!” 

The other two grab their drinks and stand up from the table, Tobin and Mike, other guy, who wasn’t in the hand stand up and shake their hands. The one she just knocked out comes over to her, holding her elbow with one hand and shaking her hand with the other, “Sneaky, Heath,” he says, “you played that great.” 

“Thanks, man,” Tobin says quietly, sitting back down to stack her chips. 

“You ready for this, Tobin?” Mike asks, giving her an expectant look. 

“Let’s do this,” Tobin confirms, giving him a grin. 

Christen watches from the last row of the bleachers in the poker room as Tobin battles against Mike for the title. There’s little banter between, both concentrating on their play. The blinds have gone up and the stakes are high. Mike is only a few hundred thousand behind her and it would only take one big pot for him to take the lead. This is their ninth hand to play one on one with Tobin winning four and Mike five. 

She doesn’t want Tobin to see her. She’s received her text and she’s not sure when would be a good time for the two for them to talk would be. She settles in, her stomach twisting in knots as Tobin plays, thinking about ten million dollars and how that woman seems to be unaffected by her wealth. 

Tobin’s been mentally keeping track of the kings and aces used in this last shoe of cards. She knows it holds four decks and she’s seen way too many kings. There’s been aces as well, although not as many played. When she’s dealt pocket aces, she gets this feeling this is her hand. For all the marbles. 

Mike makes a hefty bet, making Tobin think he’s feeling the same way. She sees his bet and watches as the flop comes ace, king, ace. She has four of kind. Mike makes the same bet and Tobin follows. The turn card is a queen, no cards are suited, eliminating any flushes. She’s thinking he’s sitting on a possible full house. He makes a higher bet and Tobin raises, not by much, just enough to get his attention. She’ll settle on taking this pot if he folds. She doesn’t want to completely push him just yet. 

He meets her raise, eying her carefully even though he can’t see her eyes behind the dark glasses. The river card comes back a king. That makes thing interesting. He takes a long time considering his move, then reaches for his chips, going all in. Tobin now thinks he must have four kings and meets his bet and watches as he flips his cards. He has four kings. 

She flips her. Four aces. She’s won. 

It’s a blur as a confetti cannon goes off, the two shaking hands and the briefcase of cash is on the table. The executives come out to award Mike the second place trophy, then Tobin receives her bracelet and a check for the obscene amount of money. 

Christen moves from the bleachers as Tobin is giving her interview. She shows her identification to security and enters the players only section, behind the drapes and away from the crowds. She greets a couple of her whales in the area, checking in and asking if they need anything. She sets up a couple of dinners and makes sure some booze is delivered to their rooms. She informs her whales they’re all set and then finds a corner to plant herself. 

She sees Mike enter the area first, assuming Tobin would be coming in soon. Her eyes follow him as he’s escorted to the cage, working out the financials of his winnings. Giselle, his host from the Bellagio is there, making sure everything goes smoothly. 

Tobin enters shortly after Mike departs, crutching over and only lingering by the cage for a few minutes, signing her receipt and nodding at the attendant. She receives high fives from those still in the room, thanking them graciously and complimenting their play. 

When Christen sees Tobin take a few steps away to lean against the wall, taking a minute to set her crutches next to her and pull out her phone, she leaves her chair. She watches as Tobin looks down at the screen, biting on her lip. 

“Hi,” Christen greets quietly. 

Tobin looks up, clearly startled and unexpecting her to be there. “Hey,” she says, shoving her phone in her pocket. 

“Congratulations,” Christen says, her voice low and tentative, “you sure had some pretty cards to play with.” 

Tobin shrugs, “I got super lucky,” she says, “things just fell my way.” 

They fall into an uncomfortable silence. The first one they’ve ever experienced. 

“Uh,” Tobin breathes, “um, would you like to go talk somewhere?” 

“I’d like that,” she nods. 

Tobin grabs her crutches and they slowly move towards the exit. “Would you mind if we went up to my room?” she asks hesitantly, “I really need to elevate my ankle, it’s killing me from sitting all day.” 

“That’s fine,” Christen agrees, “are you hungry? I could order something,” 

“That would be great,” Tobin gives her a shy smile, “thanks.”

Christen sits at the desk in the basic room. It’s a nice room, but certainly not one of the luxury suites they put the whales in. Tobin is such an enigma in the gambling world. She doesn’t conform to the standard gambler. She had ordered meals for both of them, going with a steak and a salmon dinner, ordering a bottle of wine and a bottle of Tullamore Dew whisky she knows Tobin like to sip on. 

Tobin’s room is neat and orderly. A laptop is on the desk, a journal with a nice pen resting on top of it. It appears Tobin’s clothes are unpacked and hanging in the closet and stowed in the dressers, she doesn’t see it in the room. Must be in the closet. The bed is made, but it’s not hotel maid quality made, it’s as if Tobin did it herself. That makes Christen smile.

She feels fairly confident her and Tobin can work things out. Tobin had made some small talk in the elevator up the room, they had discussed what to get to eat. She asked if Christen would mind if she showered, feeling stale from the poker room. Christen helped Tobin gather her clothes into the bathroom. She hears the shower go off and her stomach tightens. Anxiety begins to creep in. Horrible scenarios are beginning to fill her head. 

“Hey,” Tobin’s soft voice catches her, “chill,” she gives her a small smile, “we’re gonna be okay,” 

Tears prick at Christen’s eyes as she watches crutch into the room. She’s wearing a t-shirt and mesh soccer shorts, her hair damp and pulled over to one side. She’s wearing glasses and Christen thinks that there’s no way possible they could make her look even more attractive. 

Tobin eases onto the bed to sit across from her at the desk. “I’m going to elevate my legs,” she states, looking at her with uncertainty, “you wanna come over here while I do it?” 

Christen nods as Tobin swings herself onto the bed, her booted foot and sockless foot resting on the padded headboard, pillows under her thighs. Christen kicks off her low heels, sliding onto the bed, lying on her side to look at her. 

“Tobin,” Christen begins, her voice cracking, “this was all a huge misunderstanding,” she’s pleading as the tears run down her face, “I swear.” Tobin bites at her lower lip and nods her head, encouraging her to continue. 

“I,” Christen hesitates on how to frame it, “I was attracted to you the first time I saw you,” she admits, “and when Allie said you were a whale, I didn’t want to approach you for that.” She shifts on the bed, “I wanted to get to know you,” she shrugs, “I wasn’t sure if you were into chicks, I didn’t even know who you were. I had to look it up. But then, when you asked about playing soccer,” she gives her a small smile, “you were so charming and sweet,” she shrugs and gives her a small smile, “I was hooked.”

Tobin is biting her lower lip as she looks at her, then she licks her lips and casts her eyes downward. It seems to her this is the truth. She tries to think of any scenarios that Christen may have outright lied to her but nothing comes to mind. She said she was in hospitality, yeah, she didn’t say exactly what she did, but Tobin thinks she can understand why. 

Never in their time together did they have any in depth conversations about her poker playing or the casino or the fact that she was considered a whale. She shakes her head slightly at that. If she was a whale, she’s on the very low end of it. Usually whales have three digit millions or least over fifty. Unless they wanted to get her before she hit it big. She frowns, after taxes she really only has about twenty-seven and then paying off the settlement for Jeffrey, it would be only like six or seven. 

Not that she’s complaining, it’s plenty for her to do as she pleases, but she’s really not worth what people think. 

“Maybe I should go,” Christen says quietly, slowly moving from her side. 

“No, wait,” Tobin turns instantly, reaching a hand to her, “I” she slides to her side when a pain shoots in her leg, her calf knotted. “Ah!” she cries out, her hands moving to her leg. 

“Tobin!” Christen exclaims, not aware of what’s happening, “Are you alright?” 

Tobin is grimacing as she tries to stretch her calf out, “Cramp,” she mutters, her eyes shut as she gnashes her teeth. “My calf,” she utters, trying to flex her foot to relieve the pain. Christen quickly gets up and stands on the mattress, lifting Tobin’s leg and pressing her foot downward to stretch out her leg. 

“Ah,” Tobin groans, “I was just thinking,” she says, wincing as Christen works on her leg, “you’ve,” her back arches as Christen presses harder, “ah, easy,” she says.

“Sorry!” Christen squeaks, her eyes large and filled with a mix of emotions. “Better?” 

Tobin nods, liftin her hand, “Come on down here,” she says as she lets her leg fall back on the mattress and lowers her left one as well. When Christen moves to lie next to her, Tobin gives her a little tug, spreading her legs and nudging her knee. Getting the hint, Christen lifts her leg and rests her knee in between Tobin’s legs, pausing to give Tobin a look of uncertainty. 

“C’mere,” Tobin husks, her hands finding Christen’s hips and pulling her towards her. Christen rests on Tobin’s propped up on her elbows. 

Tobin looks up at her, giving her a soft smile, “You never gave me any reason to doubt you,” she says slowly, “I was thinking of that after you spoke,” she explains, “You never treated me any differently because you knew I had money,” 

“It doesn’t define you,” Christen shakes her head. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Tobin says, letting out a little chuckle. “But this whale thing,” she shrugs, “it’s not for me.”

Christen nods slowly, “I get that impression,”

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Tobin says earnestly, “I’m sorry I let my head go to dark places and let me wind myself up thinking all these terrible things,” 

“I don’t blame you, Tobin,” Christen says, “if I was in your shoes I would have thought the same,” 

“I didn’t want it to be true, I didn’t think you would do that, but” Tobin is silenced when christen puts her index finger on her lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was a host right when we met,” Christen states firmly, “I should have, but I didn’t. I didn’t want you to think I was flirting with you because I wanted to use you,” she says, “I wanted to flirt with you because I liked you,” 

Tobin nods, Christen’s finger still lingering on her lips. She smiles under her finger, puckering her lips. Christen leans down and kisses her softly. 

“I’m sorry,” Tobin says, “I didn’t mean to go off like that,” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Christen confesses, tears streaking down, “I’m so sorry for all of this,” 

“I am too,” Tobin nods, sniffing as she tries to hold back her own tears. Tobin’s hand shifts from Christen’s hip to the back of her head, guiding her close and kissing her deeply. 

XXXX

“So, what are you going to do next?” Christen questions, lazily playing with Tobin’s hair. The two are in bed, naked, feeling spent from their physical display of making up. 

_The had made out on the bed for a little bit until room service arrived. As they ate, Tobin shared with Christen about her brother, about her true purpose for playing cards and amassing her fortune. Christen took it in stride, this sense of pride filling her chest as she muses over Tobin’s actions. _

_“Even though Amy sold off all of the assets, the house, the cars, Jeffrey’s 401K,” she wipes her eyes, “I just can’t stop thinking about that little girl,” she sniffed. “Jeffrey made a terrible mistake and paid for it with his life. He also turned the life of a family upside down and paralyzed a young girl. I have this talent,” she had shrugged, “this knack playing cards,” she frowned, “and it cost me to do this, but I just can’t get the picture of Mal, that adorable looking dark haired girl in the hospital,” she turned to look at Christen, “they showed it during the lawsuit, it was awful.” _

_“I know money can’t make things right,” she said firmly, “it can’t make that family’s life go back to normal, but if it can help them, if it can help her have a chance at a good life,” she looked at Christen with her eyes so sad, so full of grief, “then I think I maybe I can let go of some of my anger at Jeffrey. Maybe I can get over losing my little brother.” _

_It was then that she cried, sobbing into Christen’s arms, the knowledge that she was finished this crazy quest she had untaken. She cried for the loss of her brother, she cried for Amy and little Ryan, she cried for her family, she cried for her parents and how this whole thing triggered broken relationships. Christen held her, allowing her to release all of those pent up emotions, the things that had been building for over three years and Tobin compartmentalized and ignored._

Tobin looks at her with an impish grin, “I have no clue,” she admits, letting out a content sigh, “I guess I need to just chill and thinks about what I want to do,” she lets her hand trace over Christen’s bare stomach, “maybe we can figure that out together, eh?” 

“Together?” Christen asks, her heart racing at the thought. 

“Yeah,” Tobin smiles at her, “if you had a clean slate, what would you want to be doing instead of being a casino host?” 

“Helping kids,” Christen answers immediately, “I kind of love them,” she smiles shyly.

“Well,” Tobin says, leaning to kiss the corner of her mouth, “let’s think about that and do some brainstorming and see what we can come up with.” 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo, I don't know if you noticed, but there's been a slight change of plans. Expect a third chapter in this story. An idea struck while I was editing and it turns out there is a little more of this story to explore. 
> 
> Thanks again for the kudos and comments, love them! Y'all are the best!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin and Christen move forward with their relationship and both find careers they are passionate about. Little Mal comes back into Tobin's life making the woman spiral thinking about what the girl wants from her.

.

_Three weeks later_

“Babe,” Christen says quietly, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” 

Tobin sighs, “I know,” she agrees, “that’s what everyone is telling me. But I just feel this…compulsion, you know?” 

Christen sighs deeply, she feels Tobin and her sense of honor is going to take a hard hit very soon. “I know you have good intentions, babe,” she says, “I know you do. But to face that family? Maybe you should just let your lawyer handle it.” 

“I gotta go Chris,” Tobin insists, “I just gotta. I can’t explain it, but I just can’t shake this feeling that I have to do this.” 

“I wish you weren’t going alone,” Christen murmurs, thinking Tobin could use some support. Tobin is in California and is going to visit the family that her brother injured tomorrow. She wants to meet them face to face. 

She’s been staying with her best friend Lauren and visiting with her sister in law and seeing her nephew. Last night, she had told Amy what she really had been doing and how her lawyer was preparing everything with lawsuit judgement. It was emotional. 

“It’ll be okay,” Tobin says with a confidence that Christen doesn’t share with her. 

“Call me,” Christen urges “let me know how it goes.” 

XXXX

Tobin’s eye twitches as she sees the ramp running along the side of the front step of the modest townhome as she walks to the door. Tobin lets out a nervous breath, wiping her hands on her dress slacks in hopes it will take the clamminess from her palms. Another deep breath and she knocks on the door. 

“Just a second,” she hears through the door a minute later the door opens. A young girl answers, she’s rail thin with dark brown eyes, large with curiosity, her black hair pulled up in a loose bun. Tobin glances and sees she’s using crutches and how her left foot turns inward slightly. She might be an eighth grader or a freshman in high school, she figures. She meets the young girl’s eyes and clears her throat.

“Hi,” she says, “is Mrs. Pugh available?” 

“You aren’t selling something are you?” the girl looks her over, narrowing her eyes. 

Tobin shakes her head, “Nah,” she says, “just wanted to talk to her for a quick minute.” 

The girl nods and opens the door wider for Tobin to enter. She turns on her crutches, “Ma!” she calls, crutching towards a hallway, “someone’s here to see you,” 

“Who?” a voice answers, “Who’s here Mal?” 

Tobin’s throat is dry, suddenly this isn’t a very good idea at all. She pats her pocket, feeling the business card of her lawyer. She glances around and notices a wheelchair folded near the door. An attractive woman comes around the corner, nearly walking into Mal, her eyes widening at the sight of Tobin. 

“You!” she says angrily, “You have some nerve coming to my house,” she says, keeping her voice even yet enunciating every ounce of hatred she feels toward Tobin’s family. 

“Mrs. Pugh,” Tobin begins. 

“Ma?” Mal asks, confused by her instant anger. 

“Go to your room,” Mrs. Pugh instructs, her tone leaving no room for discussion. Mal looks over her shoulder at Tobin as she slowly crutches towards the hallway. 

Mrs. Pugh stands before Tobin, arms crossed, looking at her with loathing. “What do you want? Hasn’t your family harmed mine enough?” 

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Tobin says, her voice uneven, “I,” she takes a deep breath, “I just came to give you this.” She hands over the card. Mrs. Pugh looks at it and rolls her eyes. 

“Please,” Tobin says, taking a step back, glancing around, unable to look at her, seeing Mal peeking out from around the hallway, “just, this is my lawyer,” she swallows, “just please take her call.” She backs into the closed door, turning quickly and yanking it open, desperately wanting to flee the home. 

“Wait!” An angry voice stops her at the threshold, holding the door open. She turns to look over her shoulder fearfully. 

“What are you thinking coming here three years after turning our lives upside down? What gives you the right? Do you know what we’ve suffered and lost because of your brother? How his stupidity altered our lives?” the woman is nearly screaming at her, her eyes boring into Tobin. 

“I’m sorry,” Tobin utters, pushing herself through the door, “this was a mistake,” she says, turning to look at her. She sees that Mal has entered the living room, her mouth open, mesmerized by the scene.

“You’re damn right it was a mistake!” Mrs. Pugh says, taking two steps and slamming the door shut in front of Tobin, making Tobin’s hair move with the force of it. 

Tobin runs from the home, fumbling to get into her rental car, fumbling to start it, throwing it gear and hitting the gas a little too quickly as she leaves. 

“Fuck!” Tobin cries, turning the corner and parking the car, leaving it running as she pounds her fists in the steering wheel, “Fuck!” 

XXXX

“She was so mad,” Tobin cries, “I froze, I couldn’t even think of anything to say after I gave her the card,” 

“You had good intentions, babe,” Christen assures her, wishing she wasn’t nearly three hundred miles away from her right now, “she wasn’t ready to see you,” 

“I’m so stupid,” Tobin laments, “I shouldn’t have gone there,” 

“Babe,” Christen sighs, “you thought you were doing the right thing.”

“Yeah,” Tobin says dejectedly. Both are quiet for a minute. 

“I saw her,” Tobin says suddenly, “Mal. She was on crutches,” she says.

“She wasn’t in a wheelchair?” 

“No,” Tobin replies, “there was one there, but she was on crutches.” 

“That’s pretty incredible, babe,” Christen says quietly, “maybe that was what you were supposed to see.” 

“Huh,” Tobin replies, thinking about it, “maybe it was.” 

XXXX

_Three Years Later_

Since their meeting in Vegas, Tobin hung around there for two months, after her second week there, finally accepting Christen’s invitation to stay at her place. The connection they felt for one another only grew stronger. 

Tobin felt drawn back to Portland, bringing Christen for a week vacation so she could check it out and see the city. Tobin took her around town and shared with her the favorite places she haunted. Once back in Vegas, they had a series of talks about their future. Tobin encouraged her to explore what she wanted to do with her life just as she was doing.   
Two months later, Christen approached her, calmly showing her the information she had printed out for becoming a licensed therapy dog counselor and trainer. She shyly smiled when she told her how she thought working with animals to comfort and assist kids with handicaps would be an amazing experience. 

When Tobin asked her where she would be going to school, Christen had smiled widely at her when she informed it was in Portland. Tobin started crying with happiness, asking her repeatedly if she was positive this was what she wanted. Christen could only nod her head affirmatively as tears rolled down her face. 

Within a month, the two were packed up and driving to Portland. It was hard for Christen to leave Allie, but they promised to stay in touch and Portland was only a two hour flight.   
Christen officially moved in with Tobin, both of them feeling it was natural. Christen insisted in paying for her schooling and splitting expenses with Tobin. Tobin agreed, although she would sneakily slide new things into the house, coming up with ridiculous explanations of how the items arrived there. 

Once back in Portland, Tobin put her plans into action. 

A year later, her business was opened, Amy and Lauren had moved to Portland to be her partners. Tobin had found the perfect warehouse space in the industrial Northwest District of Portland to create an indoor soccer facility, hosting indoor matches and using it as a training facility for off season conditioning and private coaching. The warehouse was large and high enough for them to put in a complete soccer field with long curtains on the sides to divide the space for multiple training areas that wouldn’t overlap. Tobin, Lauren and Amy went through the process to get their coaching licenses, Tobin continuing her training to get to approved for college age coaching. 

A side space to the warehouse area was used for Christen, where she would do group dog training and work with families to have their own pets learn how to be of assistance to their family member in need. Tobin convinced Christen to let her fund and create a small foundation for this service with her money, so Christen could offer it for free to the community. Christen would charge customers for individual or group obedience lessons with their pets to get some money coming in. On her own time, Christen would personally train dogs that would live with them until they could be matched with the perfect person. 

They had their own dog, Kahleesi who was wonderful with the other ones, leading them around the house. She would also help train with the puppies, gently giving them nudges to complete tasks. 

A year ago, Tobin and Christen found a modest home on a large property just outside of the city, Tobin keeping her apartment for overnight stays and using the building’s amenities, like the swimming pool and hot tub during the winter months. It was also convenient to offer to their friends and families when they came to visit instead of staying at a hotel. 

Tobin could afford to set up the space with the very best, from the turf flooring to the lighting to the strength training equipment. The space she owned came on a large property, taking over two city blocks. One block was the building, the other was for parking. 

In November of last year, Christine Sinclair from the Portland Thorns wandered in looking for a place to train during the offseason. She had heard good things around town about the place and wanted to check it out. Tobin did her best not to fan girl as she showed her around, explaining how they set things up. She was impressed and began to come in and work with Tobin and Lauren. Soon other Thorns players would come in and Tobin would learn from Christine how many of them had to work a job in the offseason since the league didn’t pay very well. Both businesses were making money and Tobin still had her nice bundle of money and wasn’t in any position to worry about it. She talked it over with Christen, Lauren and Amy and they agreed to Tobin’s idea. The next time Christine came in, Tobin asked her if she had a few minutes to talk. 

“So, I was thinking of what you told me last week,” Tobin said, juggling a soccer ball as Christine did her cool down stretches, “and I have a deal for you,” 

“Oh yeah?” the soccer player had had asked. 

“Yeah,” Tobin smiled, “how about we offer all offseason training to Thorns for free” she said, “and if they’re looking for jobs, maybe we can help some of them out.” 

Christine had straightened up, looking at Tobin closely, “Are you joking?” 

Tobin shook her head, “Dead serious,” she replied, “we have the dog thing and soccer thing, we need some people doing a bunch of stuff.” 

Christine stood up, “Are you serious?” she repeated. 

“Yep,” Tobin trapped the ball and looked her in the eye. “Us women have to stick together, if we can help each other out, we should.” 

Not all of the players came to train or needed jobs, but over a dozen did come almost every day, and most of them were hired on as staff. Amy would interview them to find out what their schooling was and what they were interested in learning to prepare for life after soccer. She found various positions for them, whether it was social media, running training sessions for the youth players that came and behind the scenes stuff like scheduling and staffing, helping out with customer service. Christen interviewed other players and soon had a great group learning how to train dogs and offering to foster pups and prepare them for their official training to be service animals. Schedules were flexible and worked around practices and matches and travel. Tobin knew she was overpaying them for the positions, but she didn’t care, she felt it sucked they were professional athletes and had to seek out second jobs to make ends meet. It also meant that many of the players could afford to live in the city year round and not have to move in with family during the offseason. She was happy to do this for them. 

Now in their full second year of operating the business, Tobin, Amy and Lauren are all still loving it. They’ve ironed out all of the hiccups throughout the first year and it’s been smooth sailing. They have enough staff for each of them to enjoy taking time off. Their schedules are now flexible for Amy to work and still have quality time with Ryan. Lauren and her husband Jrue are expecting and Tobin and Christen are talking marriage. 

Christen’s business is thriving, the community embracing her efforts and volunteers coming in to help her efforts. She has a nice crew of Thorns players that love training the puppies and fostering them. Her and Tobin usually have a full house during the season when the Thorns are traveling, all the pups coming to their house until they come back to town. They love it and it’s fantastic socializing for the animals. Multiple agencies have come forward to seek out Christen’s program, working with her to explain the ways the dogs can assist their members. 

Tobin still doesn’t speak with her parents, she’s tried a couple of times yet they are firmly dug in their beliefs. She tries to not let it bother her, she really does, but it’s hard sometimes. Christen’s parents have stepped in over the years. They are loving people to begin with, but they really work to make Tobin feel comfortable and loved, Christen’s Mom typically sending Tobin notes congratulating her on any latest good news and hints about what to get Christen for her birthday or Christmas. Cody sends her texts almost daily about sports and fishing and stupid memes to make her smile. 

Christen never asked her parents to do that, she’s never mentioned anything to them about the lack of a relationship Tobin has with her parents, yet they sensed it. They act with love and Tobin has grown to love them just as fiercely. 

Life is good. 

Just the other night, Tobin and Christen made their first trip out to look at rings, both carefully noting each other’s preferences. There’s no timeline, no pressure, but both know it’s in the works. Christen mentioned something about kids and Tobin is all for it, but the conversation hasn’t gone into timelines or anything like that. Yet. 

XXXX

“Babe?” Tobin calls from the hallway, “Do you know where my cleats are?” 

“In your bag,” Christen answers from the kitchen, walking over to see Tobin on her knees going through her gear bag. 

Sensing her presence, Tobin looks up at her and grins, “Thanks,” she smiles, “I’ll see you later, right?” 

Christen nods, “I’m going to the Harrison’s today,” she says, bending over to pet the young yellow lab by her knee, “Koby’s going to her new home,” she grins at Tobin as she pets the excited dog. 

“Aw, Koby,” Tobin frowns, the dog races over to her, nearly knocking her back on her heels, “you’re going to be such a good girl for Hailey,” she coos as she pets her. She rises to stand up, taking a few steps to her, “I’ll see you then,” she says, smiling at her, “have a good time with Hailey,” Hailey is a young girl with serious epilepsy and Koby is trained to detect drops in her sugar levels and alert when she’s about to have a seizure. Tobin knows how Christen gets emotional after each dog is ready to go their forever home. 

Christen hugs her, “I will,” she says, then kisses her, “Have a good workout,” 

Tobin kisses her back, “I will,” she nods, “you want to go out to dinner tonight?” 

“Sure,” Christen agrees, “you pick where, surprise me.” 

They had agreed a while back that things worked out better when the person asking to dinner have the responsibility for where they would go. It was easier than hemming and hawing over the choices and too many times their indecision led to just staying in and ordering something. 

“Okay,” Tobin smiles, “casual dress, no sweats.” Stating the dress code was another responsibility of the decision maker of the restaurant choice. 

“Sounds good,” Christen says, hugging Tobin tight for a moment, “I’ll be around for lunch, you want me to bring something in?” 

“Yeah, that would be great,” Tobin says, as Christen steps back. She beds down to grab her bag, “Love you,” she says as she opens the door. 

“Love you, too, babe,” Christen smiles, “Koby, come here,” she calls the dog as Tobin leaves. 

It’s later in the afternoon and Tobin is just wrapping up serving balls to Hayley Raso from the Thorns for her workout. The official preseason for the team begins next week and most of the players will only show up on days off soon. She’s already stretched, slapping hands with Hayley for a good workout and Hayley complimenting her on a great workout.   
It’s about three in the afternoon and Christen is over in the dog palace as they call it, finishing up an obedience training with a private client. 

Kat Reynolds is in the office area behind the reception desk, talking to Amy about an upcoming tournament and the plans for catering and team set ups. Tobin gives them a wave and stops by her office to check her email. She’s waiting to see if the facility has been awarded a variance to install large side windows on the building for air circulation by the city. If they get the permit for it, the contractors can start work before summer hits. 

Tyler Lussi, one of the Thorns working with them, pops her head in Tobin’s office, “Tobin, there’s someone here asking for you,” she announces, waiting for Tobin to look up. 

“Oh,” Tobin says, “I’ll be right there,” 

“Okay,” Tyler says, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” 

“No sweat,” Tobin says. 

Tobin shuts her laptop when she doesn’t see any new emails and leaves her desk. She grabs a water bottle on the way out, grinning as she sees Christen speaking with a young woman. 

“Hi,” Tobin greets, “I’m Tobin, were you looking for me?” Tobin asks when Christen and the girl turn to look at her. 

“Yes,” the young woman nods. She’s probably in her teens, with the same skin tone as Chris, dark hair and these large brown eyes. 

The recognition flickers in Tobin’s eyes, that grow large in the young woman’s response. Tobin takes a step back, the water bottle slipping from her hand and clattering on the floor. Thankfully with the cap on. 

“Babe?” Christen questions worriedly as she bends to pick up the bottle. Then she sees how the girl and Tobin are locked in a staring contest. 

“Mal?” Tobin finally utters. Her throat going dry and feeling suddenly very nervous. 

“Hi Tobin,” she says rather airily, but there’s an edge there. As if she knows Tobin is nervous and she has the upper hand. 

“Uh, hi,” Tobin says, “um, what can I do for you?” 

“I’m playing at University of Portland this fall and I was told this is the place to train.” She states. 

Christen watches as Tobin audibly swallows, “Okay,” she says, “we can work with you.” 

“I can pay,” Mal states, “money is not an issue,” 

Christen can feel how tense Tobin has grown. 

“Yeah, sure,” Tobin says, keeping her voice level. She turns away from her and walks behind the counter, rifling through a bin and producing a packet of papers. She circles the counter to present it to Mal, “These are the standard releases that need to be signed. You can sign if you’re over eighteen, if not a parent or guardian has to sign. There’s a physical form in there as well that needs to be signed off, the usual stuff.” 

Christen and Tobin stare at each other as Tobin hands over the packet. 

“What position do you play?” Christen asks, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, Mal,” Tobin shakes her head, “this is Christen.” 

“I’m a forward,” Mal replies quietly, looking at Christen and then Tobin and then back to Christen. “You her girlfriend?” 

"Fiancé," Christen nods, taking Tobin’s hand in hers. She’s not surprised that it’s clammy and ice cold. 

“Cool,” Mal says, letting her eyes travel to Tobin, “Should I drop this off when I get it complete and then you’ll call to set up our first training?” 

“Ye-yeah,” Tobin stutters, “that would be great,” 

“Great,” Mal smiles, it’s a smile that Tobin thinks looks dangerous, “I have a doctor’s appointment Monday, can I come by around this time then?” 

Tobin thinks for a moment, “Yeah, I’ll be here,” 

“Nice meeting you Christen,” Mal says, “bye, Tobin.” 

“Bye, Mal,” Tobin says quietly, watching as she spins around and confidently walks out of the building. She feels Christen slip her arm around her waist. Tobin stares at the door for a minute.

“So,” Christen says quietly, “that was Mal?” 

Tobin lets out a deep breath, “Yeah,” she says just as quietly, turning to look at her, “that was Mal.” 

“You okay?” 

Tobin shakes her head, “I don’t think so,” she acknowledges, “why is she here?” She runs a hand over her face, “What does she want from me?” 

Christen guides her behind the counter, past a silent Tyler and back to her office, shutting the door behind them. Tobin throws herself on the couch, crossing her arms, looking pensive. Christen sits down next to her, setting the water bottle on the coffee table in front of them. 

“Talk to me, babe,” Christen urges, knowing Tobin needs to vent. 

“I don’t get it,” Tobin says immediately, “she lives in LA, what’s she doing here?” 

“I don’t know,” Christen answers calmly, “she’s playing here, maybe she moved here some time over the years.” 

“Fuck,” Tobin mutters, running her hands over her face, “does that mean her Mom is here?” 

Christen doesn’t know what to say, so she simply moves closer and puts her arm around her. Tobin leans into her, “What should I do?” 

“Maybe just go with it,” Christen suggests, “there’s a reason she came here and I don’t think she has bad intentions.” 

“I sure hope she doesn’t,” Tobin sighs. 

XXXX

The first week of Mal’s training, Tobin has her doing the normal flexibility and fitness assessments. She has Lauren help Mal with the all of the tests, popping in to see how she’s doing. They chat a little during each of her visits. Tobin’s feeling slightly more comfortable, but she’s still nervous around the young girl. Her being here intimidates her. 

“So, how do you want to work this?” Tobin asks as she passes a ball to Mal. They’re in one of the training spaces for her first official training session. 

“What do you mean?” Mal asks, trapping the ball and looking up at her. 

“Well,” Tobin shrugs, “is there any particular area you want to focus on or are you looking for like a maintenance training program?” 

Mal passes the ball back and shrugs at her, “I guess we should start from scratch,” she says, “I’ve just moved here and I wasn’t really looking to join a club for the summer or anything,” she says, then frowns, “unless you think it would be good for me.” 

Tobin is a little taken aback at her openness. “Um,” she swallows, thinking of how to phrase this, “uh, how long have you been playing?” 

“I’ve played since I was five, but after everything I was able to play last year in LA,” she replies as she passes, “I thought I sucked but Portland offered me a scholarship,” 

“Yeah?” Tobin nods, impressed, “It’s a great soccer school,” she says, passing the ball back, “you had to have played better than you thought,” 

“Well, I fell off the radar for the national teams,” Mal sighs, she kicks the ball, “so I don’t know.” 

“Well,” Tobin says, stopping to juggle a little, “what are your goals?” 

“To make it to the National Team,” Mal answers immediately, “I want to play in a World Cup, the Olympics, that whole thing,” 

“NWSL?” Tobin grins at her. 

“Yeah,” Mal grins back. 

“Why’d you choose this place?” Tobin asks boldly, feeling more comfortable around her. 

“Because when you Google best places to practice and train in Portland, this place comes up,” Mal answers.

Tobin nods and bounces the ball towards her, “Juggle,” she suggests. 

Mal does some moves and right away Tobin can tell she doesn’t have as much control with her left foot. She pops the ball back at Tobin and flips it up into her hands. She tosses the ball to the side. “Come on,” walking towards the front of the building. 

“Where are we going?” Mal asks, trotting behind her. 

“We’re going to have a talk,” Tobin says, leading her into the office area, up a flight of stairs, down a hall and up a flight of another set of stairs. She unlocks the door and the two are on the roof of the building. The warm breeze hits them, the sun low in the sky. The weather is mild today. 

“Tobin,” Mal starts as she follows Tobin to the side of the building. She sits next to Tobin on the square metal housing for one of the air conditioners. “Woah,” she says when she sees the view. 

“Yeah,” Tobin breathes, “it’s cool to come up here,” she says, “helps me think.” 

“What are you thinking right now?” Mal asks, looking at her. 

Tobin looks at her, then shrugs, “I’m thinking about how I’m supposed to help you,” she says slowly, “what’s the best way to get the best from you.” 

Mal is quiet. 

“You can have all the dreams you want,” Tobin says, “but if you don’t have the work ethic,” she shrugs, “I don’t know you yet.” 

“Would you like to?” Mal asks, her voice scared and when Tobin turns to her, she sees how terrified and young Mal looks. 

“Yeah, I would,” Tobin answers sincerely. 

“Why?” Mal asks. 

“Why not?” Tobin challenges her. 

“Because my parents were awful to your family,” Mal states with a frown, “because my Mom was so horrible to you that day you came to my house.” 

Tobin lets out a breath, “Your Mom had every right to be upset,” 

“She could be upset,” Mal agrees, “but she was a bitch to you. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t do anything wrong, your brother did.” She covers her mouth with her hand. 

“It’s okay,” Tobin says gently, “you’re right. He made a horrible mistake.” 

The two are quiet, looking out at the city. 

“I live here with my aunt,” Mal says suddenly. She’s still looking out and not at Tobin. “I legally emancipated myself from my parents last year.” 

Tobin’s eyebrows raise. 

“Once they got your money,” she continues, “they bought a big house and fancy cars and we went on vacations and they did get me to the best therapists, but…” she stops.   
“But they kept calling me the moneymaker,” she whispers, “and how happy they were that we had money now, they quit their jobs and just changed who they were.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tobin murmurs. 

“I asked my Mom if they set up an account for me for college,” Mal sniffs, “and she said not to worry about it,” she lets her feet dangle off the side of the unit, “but then I saw my Dad doing coke one night.” 

A strangled noise comes from Tobin, she’s looking at Mal, seeing how upset she is. 

“I called my aunt,” Mal wipes at her eyes, “and told her what was going on and she came down and talked to my parents. Then she told me what was going on. They were violating the settlement by spending money on all sorts of stuff,” she says quietly. “We got a lawyer and built the case without them knowing.” 

“Mal, I’m so sorry,” Tobin says earnestly. She doesn’t know what to do. She had the best intentions in making sure they got the money and now to hear how it has destroyed the family, it’s a lot to take in. 

“I lived in a hotel with my aunt for a bit in LA while they had the hearings and then we moved here.” She wipes at her eyes, “In just over two years, they went through more than a third of the money.” 

“Shit,” Tobin mutters, feeling awful for the young girl.   
“I left them with a million and told them not to contact me,” Mal said, “not until they could find their way back to being my parents that loved me for me.” She starts to sob. 

Instinctively, Tobin slides over and wraps an arm around her. Mal surprises her by gripping her shirt and pulling her closer. Tobin brings her other arm around to hug her. Tobin brings a hand up to cradle the back of Mal’s head, crying right there along with her. She leans her head down so their foreheads are touching as Tobin gently rocks back and forth. She feels how the young girl sags against her, letting all of her emotions out. It makes Tobin pull her closer, running a hand up and down her back. 

When they both start to calm, Tobin discreetly checks her watch and smiles to herself. She pulls back slightly. Mal looks embarrassed, but that changes when she sees Tobin’s tear streaked face and red cheeks from crying. Tobin gives a little a laugh as she pulls the hem of her shirt up to dry her eyes. 

“Whew,” she says, looking over at her, “that was kind of cathartic, huh,” 

Mal nods, “Uh huh,” 

“You know,” Tobin says slowly, “years ago everyone told me it was a mistake for me to go to your house.” 

Mal sharply looks up at her. 

Tobin nods, “But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I just had to do it, you know? And when it went so badly, I wondered why did I do it? I pissed off your mom, she scared the shit out of me, I felt worse that I’ve ever felt before.” 

Mal is looking at her carefully with those large brown eyes. 

“Bu you know what?” Tobin questions her, watching as Mal’s eyebrows rise slightly. “I saw you. You were on crutches. The only time I’d ever seen you before was photos of you in court in a hospital bed with this huge back brace and all these tubes sticking out of you and your head was all bandaged.” Tobin nods at her, “And that gave me hope,” she says, “hope that maybe your life wouldn’t be confined to a wheelchair and so drastically altered that you wouldn’t be able to have anything close to a normal, happy life.” 

Tobin steps away and moves to the side so she’s standing in front of her, “It was Christen who it pointed it out,” she explains, “that maybe the reason I felt I had to go was to see you. When she said it, I felt like my heart knew it was true. And every single day since, I’ve prayed for you. For your family, for your health, for your happiness.” 

Mal makes a soft noise as fresh tears appear. Tobin has tears in her eyes as well. 

“Then life brought you here,” Tobin says, her voice cracking and she’s shaking her head, “maybe the plan is that we need to work together, to heal together. So, I’m in this, if you’re in this, okay?” 

“Okay,” Mal nods, her voice cracking. 

Tobin cocks her head, “Come on,” she says, “I know just what we need right now,” she says as she wipes her eyes and leads her to the door. 

“Ice cream?” Mal giggles behind her. 

Tobin chuckles, “We might have some of that here, somewhere,” she says, “but this is better.” 

“What’s better than ice cream?” Mal asks as she follows her down the stairs. 

Tobin looks over her shoulder and gives her a wide grin, “Puppies.” 

Mal’s shriek of joy as she enters the doggie daycare playroom fills Tobin’ heart. Christen comes to Tobin’s side, concerned for both of them. She sees the red rimmed eyes, the puffiness of their faces from crying. She doesn’t question it and then Tobin gives her a kiss and a heartfelt I love you and a look that tells her she will share everything with her later. 

Tobin watches Mal for a couple of minutes, as the girl laughs and coos at the two puppies and Khaleesi and then joins her on the floor, letting the puppies climb on her. Christen joins a few minutes later, after taking a few photos without their knowledge. She has a feeling it will be important later. 

Christen introduces the dogs, Khaleesi herding them around, acting like a proud parent. 

“This one’s Morena,” she says, “she’s coming home with us for training along with the one on your lap Mal,” 

“What’s her name?” Mal asks, stroking the fuzzy ball. 

“She doesn’t have a name yet.” Christen replies. 

“She looks like a Venus,” Mal announces. 

Christen tilts her head, looking at the pup, “I think you’re right,” she agrees, “Venus she is.” 

Mal’s mouth drops open, “Really?” 

Christen smiles at her, “It seems to suit her,” 

“Venus,” Mal breathes out, holding the puppy up at eye level, “your name is Venus girl,” she says, “you’re going to be a beautiful strong badass.” 

Tobin smiles and shoots a grateful look to Christen. They sit and play with the dogs for about a half an hour before Mal looks at Tobin with those big brown eyes, “So, about that ice cream,” she hints. 

“Ah,” Tobin shakes her head, “I don’t know,” she says, barely containing her grin, “you are in training now.” 

“Tobin!” Christen slaps her arm, “Don’t tease her,” she chastises, getting up, “come on Mal,” she says. “I know where it is,” 

Tobin laughs as she follows the two, feeling incredibly grateful. 

XXXX

_Two Months Later_

Mal is finishing up using the roller to clean the turf floor, making sure it’s done perfectly. It’s like a vacuum and shampooer all in one machine. It gets the turf clean and free of dog scents and urine and any traces of feces from accidents that may have occurred during the day. Since she started training with Tobin, Mal stays afterward to help close up the dog area, doing mundane things like cleaning the floors, taking out the trash and organizing the leashes on their hooks by size and color. She does it without asking, helping out whoever is working that evening, just saying she doesn’t mind and likes to see the dogs. Khaleesi follows her around, waiting for their one on one play time when she completes the tasks. 

Tobin was oblivious to Mal doing this, she was busy helping close the arena area, making sure the equipment was put back in place and the weight room was cleaned and orderly each night. Christen usually dismisses the paid staff halfway through the chores, letting them leave early. She likes that it gives her time alone with Mal and lets her get to know the young woman. 

“Hey, Christen?” Mal asks, as she finishes getting the leashes how she likes them, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” Christen replies, sitting down on the floor, petting Khaleesi. Mal walks over and sits next to her, the dog moving on her belly to nuzzle her. As she strokes the dog’s fur, Mal seems to consider what she’s going to say. 

“Mother’s Day is this weekend,” she starts. 

“Mmmhhmm,” Christen nods, acknowledging her. 

“I’m taking Aunt Anita out tomorrow night,” Mal shares, looking down at Khaleesi in thought. 

“That’s nice, honey,” Christen says, letting the nickname slip out. She can’t help it, this kid is just so sweet. Mal nods but doesn’t say anything. 

Christen waits, sensing something else is on Mal’s mind, busying herself with looking at Khaleesi’s paws, checking the nails to see if they need to be trimmed. 

“How come Tobin doesn’t talk about her parents?” Mal asks suddenly, looking up at her, “Are they dead?” 

Christen shakes her head, “No, they’re not,” she replies. 

“Is it because of the accident?” Mal asks, looking at her carefully, watching her reaction. 

“It’s part of it,” Christen admits, looking over at her. She lays her hand on Mal’s knee, “You know, you can ask her,” she says, “she’ll talk to you,” 

“I don’t want to upset her,” Mal shakes her head, “it seems like a touchy subject,” 

Christen smiles at her, “You two are alike in so many ways,” she says. She stands up, “You’re staying with us this weekend, right? While Anita is out of town?” Since Mal has started training at the facility, Tobin and Christen have been invited over for dinner with Mal’s aunt, getting to know the woman. She was aware the woman wanted to know more about them, since her niece was spending so much time there after school. Over the last months, they’ve grown close. Close enough that Mal stays with them when her aunt has to leave the city on business trips. 

“If it’s okay with you guys,” Mal nods, looking at her with raised eyebrows. 

“Of course it is,” Christen smiles, slowly getting to her feet, “Seriously though,” she says, “talk to Tobin, okay?” 

Mal nods. 

It’s three days later and it’s Saturday night, Mal is staying with Christen and Tobin and Christen has just out to the store, suddenly claiming she needs something for breakfast tomorrow. Mal is on the couch with Khaleesi next to her as she reads her history book, making notecards to help her study. Tobin is on the floor near the TV, the pieces to a wooden wine rack scattered in front of her that she’s attempting to assemble. 

“Hey, Tobin,” Mal asks, setting her book down. 

“Hum?” Tobin looks over her shoulder at her over her glasses. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Mal looks at her nervously. 

Tobin senses how uncomfortable she is and spins on her butt to face her. “What’s up?” 

Mal scrunches up her mouth and takes a noisy breath. “I can’t help but notice,” she says slowly, “you don’t talk about your parents,” 

Tobin bites down on her lower lip and nods slowly. “Tomorrow is Mother’s Day,” she says quietly, “and it kind of kills me that I can’t call to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day,” 

Mal slides off the couch, sitting on the floor and drawing her knees up. Tobin mimics her, pushing up her glasses. “My parents are really strict and very religious.” She starts. “When they found out my brother had been drinking when the accident happened, they disowned him.” She frowns, shaking her head at the memory, “He was on life support, we didn’t know if he would make it and they left the hospital. Said he wasn’t their son.” 

“Oh my God,” Mal whispers. 

“You know Amy, right? Little Ryan’s mom?” Tobin looks at her and sees her nod. “She was married to my brother.” 

Mal’s face grows pale with the realization. “I didn’t know that,” Amy was always super sweet to her and Ryan always wanted to play with her when he saw her. 

Tobin scoots over next to her, putting her arm around her. “It’s okay,” she assures her, “it really is. Amy really likes you and she’s been praying for your recovery since everything happened too, just like I was.” 

“You were?” Mal asks, tears forming in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” Tobin says as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. 

“Why don’t you hate me?” Mal whispers. 

“Nothing was your fault,” Tobin says firmly, “you didn’t do anything wrong, kiddo. My brother did and he hurt you badly. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are,” she smiles at her, “it’s really amazing to watch how you’ve improved.” 

“Why don’t you talk to your parents?” Mal asks in a whisper.

Tobin runs her hand through her hair, “Well, seeing how my parents disowned Jeffrey was pretty shocking and my sisters and I did everything we could to try and change their minds. They wouldn’t. And they wouldn’t have anything to do with Amy or Ryan, their grandson. Then, when the lawsuit came up and Amy was responsible for paying it, we all knew it would never be close to the amount your family was awarded. She sold the house, used Jeffrey’s retirement money, sold the cars and it wasn’t even close.” 

Mal is resting her elbows on her knees, her hands cupping her face. She looks so sad to Tobin.

“I am pretty at good playing cards.” Tobin nods, “And I was at a casino playing one night, just a little match, to blow off steam you know,” she says, remembering the night, “and the dealer told me I should enter one of their tournaments. I did and I won.” 

“Really?” Mal asks. “You’re not bullshitting me,” 

“No, I’m not,” Tobin laughs, “anyway, winning that tournament got me a seat at a bigger one, then another one and then I was playing in the big leagues.” She pauses for a moment. “I suddenly discovered a way to pay off the debt that Jeffrey left behind. I wanted to pay it off. All I could think of was this little girl who was so seriously injured, they didn’t think she would ever walk again. I wanted to be able to give that girl a chance at getting the help she needed to get the best chance to have a normal life. However that would look like.”   
Tobin takes a deep breath, letting it out noisily, “My religious parents couldn’t handle their daughter gambling. They couldn’t handle that I wanted to have anything to do with Amy and little Ryan. And when I lost my patience with them and told them I was gay, they didn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

Mal is looking at her with her mouth hanging open. Tobin sees how upset she is and squeezes her close, “None of my story has anything to do with you, you understand? You are not responsible for any of it. None at all.”

“If anything,” Tobin continues, “it really showed me how narrow minded my parents are. How their interpretation of the Bible isn’t the same as mine. It sucks, I miss them, and I love them, but they are toxic.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Mal says quietly. “I had no idea.” 

“There’s no reason you would have,” Tobin says, giving her a small smile. 

Mal just looks at her, wanting to question her yet holding back. 

“Go ahead,” Tobin encourages her, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” 

“So, are you rich?” 

Tobin laughs, “Yeah, I’ve got some money.” 

“How?” Mal wants to know. 

Tobin grins at her, “I played poker and won a bunch of tournaments.” 

“No way,” Mal shakes her head, “I don’t believe it.” 

“I did!” Tobin insists, “You can look it up. The tournaments I played in are on YouTube, I’m sure.” 

Mal is shaking her head. “I guess we have a lot in common, huh,” 

“We do, kiddo,” Tobin says, sliding lower to lean against the couch, “and if you ever want to talk about any of this, I’m always here for you. I know it’s hard to lose your parents, I can understand some of what you’re feeling,”

Mal nods and is quiet for a moment. “What do you do on Mother’s Day?” 

Tobin grins at her, “I get up early and make breakfast for Chris,” she says, “’cause she’s Khalessi’s Mom,” 

Mal giggles, “Really?” 

“Uh huh,” Tobin smiles, “then we call her Mom and I call my Godmom, and Amy.” She pauses for a second, “Not talking to my parents has opened me up to finding people who I can look to for support, you know? Mrs. Winters, next door, she’s like a Grandma to me, Chris’ Mom, Stacy, she’s like a Mom for me. It’s important to widen your circle to find those types of people,” She says it with the hope that maybe one day Mal would consider her and Chris to be those type of people to her. She isn’t sure if they are, Mal is hard for Tobin to read sometimes. She’s so quiet sometimes Tobin has no idea what she’s thinking. But she hopes the girl knows how important she is to them. 

“That’s cool,” Mal says, “I’ll call Aunt Anita tomorrow after she’s done with her meetings tomorrow,” 

“She’s such a cool person,” Tobin says, nodding her head. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” Mal shrugs, giving Tobin a nod. 

“Who is taking care of your money?” Tobin asks quietly. 

“Um, Aunt Anita set me up with the Centennial Group?” she replies, “I have these two ladies that work with me,” 

“Doris and Angie?” Tobin asks, raising her eyebrows a little. 

“Uh huh,” Mal frowns, “how’d you know?” 

Tobin nods, “I work with them,” she replies, “well, they work with me, I mean.” She shakes her head, “My money is with them, they’re good. Very good. Trustworthy.” She pauses for a moment, her mouth twitching, then she looks at her, “So, like, do you get an allowance or?” 

Mal nods, “It’s a conserver…converser…” 

“Conservatorship,” Tobin nods. 

“Yeah,” Mal nods, “I’ll get complete access when I’m eighteen,” she frowns, “but I think I’ll just stay with them, you trust them, right?” 

“I do,” Tobin nods, “that would be smart. If you’re interested over fall break, I have a great book about money if you want to read it.” 

Mal’s eyes grow large, “That would be great,” she smiles, “Aunt Anita is super smart about it, she was complaining about how my parents did stuff against the rules with the money,” she frowns again, “I don’t want to be stupid about it. A lot of that stuff goes over my head.” 

“Doris and Angie are super cool,” Tobin reassuringly, “if you have questions or want an opinion, they’ll be honest with you. They’ll look out for your best interests.” 

Mal looks at her shyly, “Would you maybe come with me to talk to them sometime?” 

Tobin’s eyes widen, “Wouldn’t you want to go with Anita?” 

Mal shrugs, “I kind of want to go on my own first,” she explains, her voice low, “then I can show her I’m serious about it. Like being an adult.” 

Her answers surprises Tobin a little. She thinks about it, “I can see your point,” she admits, “but you should read the book first.” She thinks for a second, “When do you turn eighteen?”

“Not until next April,” 

Tobin nods, “We have time,” she senses the conversation is over. “Hey,” she gets to her feet, “you wanna see what I got Chris for Mother’s Day from Khaleesi?” 

“Sure,” Mal smiles and gets to her feet. 

“Come on,” Tobin leads her towards the hallway, “hey, you wanna sign the card with me too?” 

“Really?” Mal is tickled. 

“Of course!” Tobin says, “It’s in your room,” she turns into the guest bedroom where Mal is staying. Something flutters in Mal’s chest at Tobin saying it’s her room. “Close the door, in case Chris comes back.” 

When Christen returns carrying two bags from the grocery store, she hears Tobin and Mal giggling behind the closed door to the young girl’s room. She smiles, feeling like things are finally falling into place with Tobin and Mal. 

“I’m home!” Christen announces, hearing the laughter increase and then Mal slowly opening the bedroom door. 

“Oh, hey,” she greets, “get anything good?” 

Tobin appears behind her, “Hi babe,” she says, approaching her and giving her a kiss. Christen can tell just from Tobin’s expression, how her eyes are shining that she and Mal have bonded on a new level. 

“Hi,” Christen kisses her back, “Mal, did you finish making your history flashcards?” 

“Almost,” Mal nods, “me and Tobin got to talking,” she explains, “I think I only have four or five pages left in my chapter.” 

“How about I make parfaits when you finish that,” Christen offers, then sees the pieces of the wine rack on the floor, “and help Tobin put together the wine rack.” 

“Can we watch a movie?” Mal asks. 

“Sure,” Christen agrees. 

“Nothing that’s rated R though,” Tobin insists, shaking her head with a slight grin on her face. 

Christen rolls her eyes, “How about you get on that wine rack?” 

Tobin grins at them, “On it.” 

XXXX

_Four Months Later_

Christine Sinclair stands up, “That’s a foul!” she yells before the whistle blows. 

“That’s a yellow!” Tobin yells angrily, standing up next to her, watching as Mal slowly rolls on her back, clutching her shin after getting taken down in the box from a rough tackle.   
Christen is on her feet, Anita, Mal’s aunt suddenly clutching Christen’s forearm with concern. The rows behind them are littered with a dozen Thorns players who have come to know Mal through working out. She’s joined in pick up nights, showing off her skills. They’re all on their feet being vocal about the play and cheering when the ref pulls out a yellow card and points to the spot for a penalty kick. They cheer louder when Mal gets to her feet, slowly walking off and looking up at their location and giving a little smirk. 

“You’re sure it’s okay if she stays with you while I’m gone, right?” Anita asks Christen once again when they take their seats. Anita is going out of town for a short business trip.

“Oh of course,” Christen readily agrees, “you know she’s always welcome. You’re coming over for dinner on Monday when you get back, right?” 

Anita nods, smiling happily. After hearing Mallory talk non-stop about Tobin and Christen in the first few weeks she had started training there, Anita made the girl invite them over for dinner. The attractive fifty year old woman recognized their kindness right away, being well versed in the story how Mal’s and Tobin’s lives are intertwined. She chalks it up to divine intervention and was so pleased when Tobin stated that as a fact to her. The two women have been a wonderful influence on Mal. 

They stand again and watch as the Captain of Portland’s team takes the penalty shot and scores. 

The group lingers after the match, slowly making their way down to the fence rail to say hello to their favorite player. The Thorns players get approached by those around them for autographs and photos, people being cool enough to wait until the after the match before bothering them. They’re close to the bench where the team is milling around after listening to their coach talk. Some are looking up in the stands, their eyes growing wide when they recognize the pro athletes. 

Christen and Tobin grin, hanging back while Anita gets to the rail, calling out to Mal and having a moment with her before she needs to leave for the airport. Anita makes her way back to Tobin and Christen, giving them both a wide smile. She knows these two women have stepped in and given Mallory the so much of themselves. She knows they love her and that Mal loves them. That through all of the ups and downs of Mal being injured, her recovery and the terrible situation with her parents, Christen and Tobin have remained supportive and encouraging to her. How Tobin listens to her, understanding the pain Mal feels regarding her parents. How Tobin helps her navigate school and training, working on her time management and teaching her about nutrition. The sweetness and guidance of Christen makes her smile, it makes her smile every time Mal tells her how Christen insists on making sure she’s studying and organized for her schoolwork. She hugs them both again before leaving the stadium. 

Mal’s team is gathered along the rail, that’s about three feet higher than the field, looking up and talking to the Thorns players, some finding markers from the training staff and pulling out their shinguards for autographs. Mal is hanging just on the edge of the pitch, smiling at the scene, a few of her closer friends around her. 

Mal lets out a little squeal when she sees Tobin and Christen make their way to the rail, Tobin craning her neck to find her and Christen putting her hand on Tobin’s forearm and pointing to Mal. How Tobin’s face lights up when her and Mal make eye contact. She looks at Christen and sees her smiling as well as her hand slides to go around Tobin’s waist.   
Mal starts walking over, her friends joining her, laughing about something. Mal doesn’t talk much about her family life, but she talks all the time about Christen and Tobin. She’s constantly talking about training with Tobin and the dogs and Christen and how much she loves staying with them. 

Mal gives her a bright smile, trotting over to them. She puts her hands up to grip the rail and jumps, feeling Tobin catch her by the waist effortlessly lifting her up high and over the rail, setting her down and holding her tight. Christen joins the hug, both of them telling her how awesome she did. 

They’re always so supportive of her play, but tonight was special. It was her first start and first complete match. Her coach had been conservative with Mal, knowing she didn’t have much match experience and even though her fitness was superb, coach didn’t want the freshman to get too beat up from the physical play this season. Especially knowing her history with her accident. She wanted to be positive the young girl was completely healed before letting her loose. 

In their little huddle, Mal is feeling overwhelmed by her emotions, by everything Tobin and Christen have done for her. She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she hears Christen murmur to her it’s okay and then she feels how Tobin hugs her tighter, cradling the back of her head in a way that’s so comforting. The three stay like that for a few minutes, not speaking much, just holding each other. 

When Mal composes herself, she pulls back a little to look at them. Tobin lifts her head, tears on her cheeks, giving her a soft smile, her eyes filled with pride. She nudges Christen who quickly wipes at her eyes and chuckles. 

“You did so good, Mal,” Christen says warmly, “how did it feel to play ninety?” 

“So good,” Mal grins at them. 

“Nice nutmeg in the box,” Tobin cheeses, her smile nearly overtaking her face, “you smoked her,” 

Mal shrugs, suddenly feeling shy and humble, “Just trying to win,” 

Tobin slings her arm around her, “The assist was sweet,” she says, “you had a beautiful curl on that cross,” 

“Thanks,” Mal leans into her. 

“You going out with the girls tonight?” Christen asks, looking down and shoving her phone in her purse. 

“Yeah,” Mal says, “we’re going to the soccer house tonight,” 

“You call any time, kiddo,” Tobin says, “need a ride home, food, whatever. Don’t go walking around campus alone or anything,” 

“Okay,” Mal nods and instead of feeling like she’s being told what to do or they're smothering her, she feels this surge of affection that they care so much about her. She turns in and gives Tobin a hard hug and then then Christen one as well. 

“Thanks so much for coming,” she says, smiling at them. 

“Go on,” Christen nods, “have fun, but be safe, okay?” 

“For sure,” Mal says, climbing over the rail and waving and thinking the Thorns for coming before she trots over to her teammates by the bench. 

Mal finds her bag on the bench, pulling out her shinguards and zipping open the bag. One of the girls elbows her. “Mal,” she says, jerking her head towards the two women, “Are they your parents?” 

Mal looks up and sees Tobin and Christen talking to Sinc as they turn to leave the stands. 

“Those two?” she points, “With Sinclair?” 

“Yeah,” 

Mal smiles at her, “Yeah, kinda.” She beams at her, thinking back on Tobin’s words about finding people in your life you can love unconditionally. 

Fini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of this sprung during the second chapter, the idea of Mal actually becoming part of Tobin's life and how the trauma of the events that tied their lives together now helps them both heal somewhat from it. 
> 
> I'm not sure if this will go on, but there's a few story lines in it that would allow it to continue. We'll see. 
> 
> Banging around with another idea right now, life is getting hectic so I'm not sure when I'll be able to get anything out here. We'll see. 
> 
> Thanks for following along- hope you've enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick little thing that came to mind and wanted to get out there. 
> 
> Taking a short break while I consider the next story. It will be a part two to one of mine, just going through and finding the one to continue. Leaning towards one of the Talex stories.


End file.
